The Ruler of Winter Rock
by NihonBara
Summary: For a thousand years Winter Rock, the castle atop Mt. Cold, overlooked the quaint village of Hetalia. Its ruler, the demon Prince Ivan, never troubled the villagers or appeared before them. He became a myth. Then, one night when they celebrated the Festival of the Moon, Ivan appeared to take Alfred F. Jones to live with him in Winter Rock...
1. Crashing the Party

**Winter Rock**

 _For one thousand years Winter Rock, the castle atop Mt. Cold, overlooked the village of Hetalia. It's ruler, the Demon Prince Ivan, never troubled the villagers or appeared before them. Then, on the night when they celebrated the Festival of the Moon, he appeared and came to claim Alfred, wanting to take him back to Winter Rock._

* * *

"What about Lietchten over there," Gilbert said, ribbing Alfred who ignored him. "She has her eye on you."

"Everyone has their eye on me," Alfred said cockily.

"Only because their eyes ache after staring at my awesome," Gilbert said, throwing an arm around Matthew and hugging him. "How about you?"

Alfred had forgotten his brother was there. That always seemed to happen. Most of the Hetalian villagers, minus the children and the elders who put them to bed, were out for the Winter Moon festival. Snow was on the ground, the stars were bright, and the full moon would soon reach the center of the sky.

Four bonfires burned around the tall Moon Pole that all those of seventeen years would dance around in a few minutes and make their debut as single and available adults. This was a mating ritual of sorts.

One Alfred F. Jones did not look forward to. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he wanted a girl to run up and claim him. He was rather confused about what he wanted.

I want out of this valley, he thought. Tall, snow-capped mountains bordered either side, silthouettes in the night. The nearest drew his eyes, as it always did and when Gilbert was distracted with Mattew, Alfred left them.

He wandered past the drinking and revelry, to the edge of the firelight and stared up to the top of Mt. Cold where sat the Winter Rock. A castle of many towers and pinnacles, each made of blacken stone and tile. No human had ever dared tried to go up there.

People said it was over a millennium old and a demon of terrible power, a son of Winter, lived there. He never bothered the villagers, beyond the discomfort in living in the shadow of a monster.

Violins and pipes were playing from the bonfires. People were singing and dancing and clapping and enjoying life. A life Alfred dearly wanted to be happy in, but always his gaze went to the Winter Rock to wonder of its unseen master.

Sometimes he would stare at for hours, studying its strange features. It called to him and, sometimes, he felt like something stared back at him.

What was its ruler, Lord Ivan, like? Was he lonely up there?

Alfred frowned, squinting as a strange purple glow lit the tallest tower. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things. There was a light coming from the tower.

"There you are!" Gilbert said, Alfred nearly jumping out of his skin when the Prussians hand clapped him on the back. "Don't stand out here all alone. Let's drink and be merry."

Alfred looked again to see no light coming from the Winter Rock, if it had been there. He let Gilbert lead him back. Rubbing his hands together. Yes, it was best to stay near the fire.

He had a sudden bad feeling. A feeling that something was about to happen.

* * *

They interlocked arms, forming a human ring around the Moon Pole. Frost crunched under their woolen boots as they marched to the left and then reverse to the right. The girls of seventeen were on the far side.

Soon the dance would begin to splinter.

Alfred had already seen a few girls looking his way, liking predators sighting their target. The circle widened as he began to let go of Gilbert and Matthew's hands. They were about to -

A whirlwind slammed into everyone. For a moment, Alfred did not know up from town as he was lifted off his feet and thrown backwards. Slamming hard into the snowy grass, he shook his head and got to his feet, shocked to see everything in pitch darkness.

All the bonfires, lanterns, and candles had gone out. The Moon Pole had snapped at the base and everyone was laying prone on the ground. They blubbered and wept.

"Matt?" Alfred said, clambering to his feet.

"Al," Matt groaned. "I can't get up."

"What do you mean?" Alfred rushed to the darkened figure he thought was Matt.

"I can't either," Gilbert groaned. Their shadowy shapes struggled on the ground, visible only by the full moon.

Why was Alfred able to stand?

A woman screamed from the other side and it took Alfred a moment to see why. His eyes widened and he fell on his rear, mouth agape. Floating figures in back robes with purple glowing eyes descended from the sky. They carried scythes and radiated darkness. They landed all around, one near Matt.

"Stay away!" Alfred warned, raising his fists, but quaking inside of these ghosts.

Ghosts! Why did it have to be ghosts?

One bonfire relit, a purple fire bursting from it, jetting several feet up before it settled. It cast a deep, eerie opal light on everyone who was trapped to the ground.

People sobbed and begged all around, praying for this evil to begone.

The beat of heavy wings, following by strong gusts, brought more cries as Alfred watched a great, black beast, a nightmare from the Winter Pit, descend and land in the center where the Moon Pole had been. The bonfire, within feet of it, defined its sinewy muscle and thin wings as it furled them.

A man, more handsome and beautiful than humanly possible, rode the creature. A man with a pale, violet aura and eyes that glowed with their own purple light. He was pale and iridescent as if starlight was his skin. His hair was almost-white and seemed made of moonlight.

He wore a long coat and a scarf was wrapped around his neck. His face seemed as gentle as his smile, but something was lacking in. Something that made Alfred feel cold in the pit of his stomach.

"Greetings, folk of Hetalia," the man said, smile never leaving his features. He spoke with an accent. His ghouls hovered interspersed among the crowd and Alfred was the only person who seemed able to move. He stayed near Gilbert and his brother. He would defend them. "Prosti, as we say in my language. I had no invite so I decided to join. You may call me Ivan."

There was an audible gasp from people. Alfred grabbed Matthew's hand squeezing. The Prince of Winter Rock had come here himself and brought his horrifying friends.

"Who is leader of this village?" Ivan asked, staring in the direction of Alfred. Alfred was sure his eyes were on him.

"I am," Ludwig called from a couple dozen feet away, straining to get up, but was stuck to the ground by the same force holding everyone else. "I am Ludwig. What brings the Lord of Winter Rock to our festival?"

Ivan's eyes flashed with that opal light.

"Someone I have long coveted. Today is the night to claim a mate who comes of age. I have come for my Sunflower."

Several girls sobbed and covered their heads. Alfred scrambled for what he could do.

"You won't take our daughters," Ludwig said.

"Perfect. I'm not here for a daughter," Ivan said and locked Alfred in his gaze. "I'm here for a son. One who will come with me to my home, Winter's Rock."

Alfred's stomach felt like it would fall out. Ivan had come for him.


	2. Confused Intentions

**Confused Intentions  
**

* * *

The wind screamed around Alfred, never touching him, echoing his inner fear. He was sure Ivan somehow shielded him from the cold and air.

They soared over the dark valley, sharing a saddle. Ivan was seated behind Alfred who tried not to blush every time the demon lord adjusted, tried not to blush at the feel of Ivan behind him, or noticed the gentle pressure of Ivan's hand resting on Alfred's side. Ivan's other hand gripped the reins and directed the dragon, beast, or whatever it was they rode. Alfred's heart fluttered as Ivan's chest pressed against his back and as he felt the other's breath against his ear.

The man was neither cold nor warm. Just gentle. And Alfred kept telling himself he loathed Ivan's touch and pressure. The demon lord was kidnapping him.

 _I hate this. I do_ , ran on repeat in Alfred's head.

Winter Rock rushed toward them, growing larger by the second. The moon, now descending toward the horizon, appeared to be stabbed by the highest pinnacle of the castle. Their sudden, steep ascent forced Alfred to fall against Ivan's chest. Gravity made him lay against the demon's strong body and he could do little about it. Drawn by curiosity, an ongoing weakness of his, Alfred leaned out to look down at Mt. Cold's sloping, snow-covered knees.

His face went red when Ivan squeezed his side and nudged Alfred to sit right in the saddle. Alfred quickly turned back to the tall turret.

In his head he felt so confused. Was this a nightmare or a long-awaited dream? A rescue or an abduction?

He couldn't decide.

His mind recalled moments ago.

* * *

 _"No, Al!" Matthew's hand latched onto Alfred's ankle. "Don't. He'll devour you!"_

Alfred hesitated, but did not look down at his brother. Ivan's gaze gripped Alfred and beckoned him forward.

 _"Listen to your brother!" Gilbert said._

 _Ivan h_ _eld out his hand and said, gentle smile plastered on, "I will never harm you, Sunflower. You have my word."_

 _"The word of a demon means nothing," Gilbert said. "He'll gobble you up. He's evil."_

 _"Silence, human," Ivan said, voice dropping low for a moment. Even Alfred froze, heart thudding from the warning in it. "I do not lie. Something humans cannot claim. Come." Ivan's eyes lit with that piercing opal light._

 _"I'll be fine," Alfred said, as if he spoke from outside his body. He shook off Matthew's hand; his brother's fingers fell away. His feet moved, one after the other, until he stood in reach of the mighty demon prince. The creature lowered its long neck so that Alfred could take Ivan's extended hand. In the corner of his vision Alfred noticed the beast's glowing, emerald eyes, the size of a dishplate. He could only see one on this side of its long snout with slitted nostrils. He felt it studying him and saw that this was not a stupid creature._

 _Alfred reached up, but did not take Ivan's hand. With the last of his willpower, he asked, "If I go, will you release them?"_

 _Ivan nodded. "You have my oath."_

 _"No!" Matthew yelled._

 _"What will you do to me?" Alfred asked._

 _"That you must discover," Ivan said._

 _"Al!"_

 _Without a backward glance, Alfred Ivan's hand, eyes widening, as the demon pulled him up one handed. Alfred blushed as he was seated in front of Ivan and felt the man pressing at his back. Waves of heat swam through Alfred._

 _"Al!" Matthew sobbed from afar._

 _Placing one hand on Alfred's side and grabbing the reins with the other, Ivan said in a low voice, "Away, Toris."_

 _Stretching out its wings, the beast gave a roar that caused many to flinch and cover their heads. Then it leaped toward the sky, hurling out strong gusts with the beat of its wings. The starry sky filled Alfred's eyes as they rocketed upward. He wasn't afraid. His heart pounded with the thrill of flight. He drank in the sea of stars and believed maybe the world was wrong. Maybe everyone lived upside-down. Maybe that ocean of glittering lights was where Alfred was meant to be._

 _And he gave a cry. He was airborne._

 _He was free and, for one small stretch of time, it didn't matter why._

* * *

The change in trajectory snapped Alfred from his reverie. They slowed and ascended to an opening in the tallest turret. Soon Alfred realize a stone platform extended like a tongue from that dark entrance. Toris landed at the end of that, talons sinking into the stone. With a keening roar, he stretched out his neck and lowered it. Before Alfred could climb down, Ivan had already done so.

"Careful, Sunflower," Ivan said, offering a hand.

Alfred ignored it and swung his leg over the saddle to ease himself down. He frowned when Ivan placed his hand against the small of Alfred's back in an obvious attempt to steady him. "I can get down on my own," Alfred said, but Ivan never removed the hand until both of Alfred's feet were on granite.

A glance over the edge left Alfred dizzy and wobbly. Suddenly, he was grateful for Ivan moving his hand to Alfred's shoulder. _So high_ , Alfred thought. The dozens of impossibly-tall towers seemed to stretch out of a black abyss from which Alfred could see no bottom.

"You should not look," Ivan warned, breathe tickling Alfred's inner ear.

Shrugging him off, Alfred stepped away. Whatever spell Ivan had bewitched Alfred with to induce him to take the demon's hand was fading now. Alfred was returning to his senses. He felt deceived and he did not like it. He balled his hands into fists.

"You had no right," he said.

Ivan gave a small smile and turned around, heading for large, arched opening.

Trying to catch up, Alfred asked, "Where are we going?"

"Inside. Toris!" Ivan said over his shoulder.

 _Toris?_

"Yes, m'lord," A soft, yet firm voice said behind Alfred who spun on his heel to see the owner.

Alfred's eyes bugged out to see the dragon gone. The large saddle and halter lay behind a slender man in a green coat, buttoned up at the side, with matching green pants tucked into black, knee-high boots. His eyes shimmered with the same green light as the dragon's.

 _Impossible. It couldn't be_ , Alfred thought, realizing that the man was a shape-shifter. A creature out of village folklore.

"Prepare him," Ivan said.

"For what?" Alfred said, whipping back around as Ivan melted into the shadows. "What do you mean 'prepare him'?" He hurried inside, stopping just before the entrance, but saw no sign of Ivan. Where did he go?

"M'lord's pet," Toris said so close Alfred jumped a little. He turned around so fast he nearly collided with the man's forehead as Toris was in mid-bow. "If you will follow me."

"Who are you?" Alfred asked, backing away.

Toris's eyes flashed with a brighter form of that green light and he smiled, revealing a hint of fangs. "I am Lord Ivan's servant."

"What is he planning to do with me?" Alfred asked nervously.

"Follow and find out," Toris said, moving gracefully around Alfred. He held up a palm and sphere of sickly-green light formed above it, illuminating the inside of the bare stone room. It revealed a a hole in the center. No, not a hole, Alfred realized, but a staircase spiraling down the floor like corkscrew. His boots clacked as he descended. "This way."

The further he went, the colder it got. The air currents and biting cold that Alfred had been shielded from returned with their growing separating. With a shiver, Alfred hurried to catch up and descend into the bowels of Winter Rock. In the back of his mind, he wondered what awaited him in this place.


	3. Deep In Winter Rock

**Deep In Winter Rock**

* * *

After a long, long time, they reached a level that went into a corridor. Toris led Alfred from the staircase and into a great hall, lined with gigantic pillars. His light was the only one and it showed very little of the grand room.

Alfred gaped around, hearing their footsteps reverberate around the room. Angles in the corners and things that should be solid seemed to shift and move when he did not directly stare at them. He heard creatures flying up in the rafters.

The shadows were strange, sometimes shapes moved in them and eyes glowed. Alfred felt watched by hungry eyes. Sound also travelled strange. At times, he heard extra sets of footsteps behind him, following on the edge of the light.

The hair rose on his nape.

Toris stopped so suddenly, Alfred nearly ran into him, but before Alfred could gripe about it, he saw Toris dark expression. He stared at nothing but a very black shadow in the corner, growling, eyes glowing.

"He belongs to the Master," Toris snapped, voice a deep rumble from his throat. His nose began to elongate and scales began to appear, shimmery specks, on his cheeks. Something hissed and then skittered away. The shadow lightened. Toris returned to before.

"What was that?" Alfred asked. _Belong to the Master?_ That peeved him to hear, but he was distracted by other matters.

"A lurker," Toris said. "Never walk alone here. Many of the inhabitants love the taste of man flesh and will take a limb or two if you give them a chance."

Alfred shuddered, walking closer to Toris. He rubbed at the sleeves of his bomber jacket. This was no place for a human. In a nervous voice, he asked, "Does Lord Ivan? Does he... eat man-flesh?"

Toris eyed Alfred over his shoulder with a small smile. "Now why would I spoil the surprise?"

"This amuses you? Well, laugh it up, Scales. Yo-" Alfred collided into the back of Toris who had stopped suddenly. Holding his injured nose, he said, "What gives?"

"What did you call me?" Toris asked, turning around, his eyes now fully lit.

"Scales," Alfred said, rubbing his injured nose. "Because you've got scales. Coz you're a dragon."

"Dragon?" Toris said, staring at Alfred. Then he threw back his head, laughing heartily and went back to leading Alfred through the pillared hallway. "You think I'm a dragon?"

"Well, if you aren't, then what are you?"

"A Weir-Beast," Toris answered. "We're distant cousins to dragons, but we are not the same. Pray you never meet a real one. Lord Ivan's half-sister, Lady _Natalia_ -" he sighed her name so lovingly "- is a half-dragon. One of the last remaining of the _Ice Dracos_. A majestic creature with wings so lovely, it's as if they were sewn together of freshly-fallen snowflakes."

"Sounds like you have a crush," Alfred teased.

"She'd never love a Weir-Beast," Toris said. "But I'd gladly let her shred my flesh with those gorgeous incisors of hers. My blood smearing those lips. What a sight that would be to behold."

"Erm..." Alfred felt horrified. What kind of twisted beings were these. "How... um... romantic."

"Hardly," Toris said stoically as they entered a tunnel, one seemingly hewn from the rock of the mountain. It went downward and dirt crunched underneath Alfred's leather shoes. The walls glistened with moisture. The further they went, the warmer and more humid the air grew like they were entering a Sweat Tent. "If I were being romantic, then I'd rip out my own entrails and offer them to her to feast upon."

Alfred missed a step and caught himself on one of the cave walls. Toris slowed slightly so he could catch up. "You're joking, right?"

Toris shot him a frown. "Why would I joke about that? Wouldn't you do that for the one you love?"

"Hell no," Alfred said. "That's disgusting."

After a long, thoughtful pause, Toris asked, "So how do humans express love?"

"I don't know. Sweets? Flowers? Jewelry? Things that don't involve body mutilation."

Toris snickered. "How shallow. And your mates accept this?"

"Hopefully," Alfred said.

"What low standards," Toris said with a tut-tut.

"Yes, because 'here's my spleen' really gets the girls in a tizzy," Alfred said mockingly.

"Why wouldn't it?" Toris said. "Or better yet, your fresh liver."

"You are one sick bastard," Alfred said. "What good is confessing and then dying in front of them?"

"Why would you die?"

"Because taking your insides out usually kills a person."

"It does?" Toris said, shooting Alfred a surprised look. His brown eyebrows slowly crawled up his flat forehead. As if coming to an earth-shattering conclusion, Toris asked, "Do you mean to say that your innards don't regenerate?"

"Do yours?"

"Of course. Within a few hours. So they really won't grow back?" Alfred shook his head, gaping at the mad man. "What about your limbs?" Alfred moved his head from side to side. "Not even a thumb?" Alfred shook his head again. "I had no idea humans were so frail. How has your race survived?"

A dim, golden light grew as they neared the end of this path.

It took a few minutes for Alfred to soak in the fact that he was being guided by a lunatic who a few minutes ago did not realize Alfred's parts would not grow back.  
"May Himaruya protect me," Alfred said, giving a small prayer to the creator of their universe.

"You can pray later," Toris said. "We need to cleanse that stench off you."

"Cleanse...do you mean?" Alfred trailed off and then turned and bolted. His retreat was stopped with a snap of Toris' fingers and the shadows grabbed Alfred by the arms, picking him off his feet. "You can't! I didn't agree to this! It's inhuman! Let me go!"

Alfred's skin crawled at the feel of ghostly hands carrying him into a dome-like cavern at the end of the tunnel. He should have known you could not trust demons. Torchlight burned into two large braziers on either side of the room. Several pools were around the room with steam rising off.

Alfred continued to kick and struggle.

"I'll not submit! I won't allow it!"

"Enough, human," Toris said. His sphere of light had winked out and he had a bar of soap in one hand and a wash cloth in the other. "I've long observed your kind. I know how little you bathe."

"Bathing kills! You don't bathe in winter!" Alfred cried. "Put me down."

"Strip," Toris warned, eyes glaring with that iridescent light. "Or you will be stripped."

"No!" Alfred continued to struggle, no longer thinking clearly. Bathing in the winter was said to bring the plague. People died from illness. "You're trying to kill me."

"Have it your way," Toris said, smiling widening. His eyes blazed with light and next Alfred knew the shadows were undoing his buckle.

This would happen. Alfred F. Jones was about to be cleaned. And he would fight to the end.

(Note #1: Alfred's fear of bathing is based on a very really fear that Europeans had of bathing in the Middle Ages. It was believed that warm water widened pores and allowed diseases easier access to the body. So to many hot water bathing = death. So while Alfred has used Sweat Tents, he, like most of the villagers, has never had a hot water bath before. Bathing in cold river water is just a good way to get ill. So he's a little ripe to the demons' enhanced sense of smell. They knew enough about the humans in Hetalia to know that Alfred would freak out at the prospect.

Note #2: Himaruya is the creator of Hetalia. So it's a bit of a joke that the "god" of their universe and the one they worship is their "creator".

Note #3: Don't worry we'll get to Ivan.


	4. Heart-Popping Fun

**Heart Popping Fun**

* * *

Alfred came out spluttering and spitting out the sulfur-tasting water. Toris let go of the top of Alfred's head and, when Alfred had wiped his eyes clear, he glared at the Weir-Jerk.

"I'm clean," Alfred said as Toris began once more grinding the soapy cloth against Alfred's back.

"When you smell clean, then you're clean," Toris said. "You're not fighting anymore."

"I'm tired of those ghosts," he said the last part more higher pitched than intended, "manhandling me."

"You like the bathing," Toris said.

"Do not," Alfred grumbled, refusing to admit how nice the hot water felt or how his muscles relaxed as Toris massaged the soap into his skin, scrubbing out years of grime. Rivulets of water dribbled down Alfred's chest and back. He tensed when Toris reached his stomach. "Um... do you mind? You're not cleaning there."

"Then do it yourself," Toris said, handing Alfred the cloth. "And do it right. If Lord Ivan didn't hate hot water, he'd do this himself."

Alfred colored at the thought, thankful the steam and dim lighting hid his flushed cheeks. "Wait... I have to bathe but he doesn't."

"Lord Ivan is very clean. But not this way," Toris said, nodding for Alfred to scrub.

Reluctantly, Alfred did so, lifting his leg out of the water to cover it in suds. The water had an amazing filtration system. Somehow all the soap and grey water vanished within minutes. He wondered how it worked. Noticing Toris intense stare, Alfred asked, "Scales, could not watch me?"

"Hmm...?" Toris said, blinking like he had been forced out of a deep contemplation. "So... can humans reattach limbs?"

Alfred groaned. _This again_. "No. It doesn't work that way."

"What if your heart pops out accidentally. Do you die?"

"Yes, but whose heart pops out on accident?"

"Lord Ivan's," Toris answered.

The soap bar plopped out of Alfred's hand. Instead of cursing and feeling around the bottom for it, he stared at Toris in shock. "His heart... pops out?"

"It's rather embarrassing. Lord Ivan tries to keep a good sense of humor about it, but he suffers from premature heart-evacuation." Alfred's jaw could not hang any lower without coming unhinged. "If it happens, don't panic. Just listen for the gushy, beating sound."

A thought occurred to Alfred. "Is he weak without it?"

"I'm not sure, but who'd be foolish enough to attempt to steal it?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick" Alfred said, clutching his stomach. How would he survive in this twisted world? Without thinking, he blurted, "I need to get out of here."

"You're right!" Toris said, jumping to his feet, water dribbling off his pale skin. "We've been here too long. We mustn't keep Lord Ivan waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Alfred asked nervously.

"Dinner," Toris said as he stepped out of the water and over the rim of stones.

"Dinner? It has to be past midnight!"

"Humans don't eat then?" Toris asked, looking confused.

Alfred wanted to beat his head against the wall. "Of course we don't."

"That's too bad. Lord Ivan had an incredible feast prepared for you. You might want to eat anyway. Disappointing him is unwise." Toris said, grabbing a towel from a raised part of the stone in the corner. "Should I dress you?"

"No!" Alfred said too forcefully.

"Then I'll wait outside for you." And Toris left.

After climbing out of the bath, Alfred padded over to the rim of rock, but did not see his bomber jacket or clothing, only a neatly-folded stack of black clothing with a purple sash. "Scales," he called. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

"Being cleaned."

"Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to wear?"

"The black clothing," Toris said. "It's made of very fine-wo-"

"I'm not wearing this crap!" Alfred interrupted.

"That's fine. Lord Ivan will be thrilled you wish to appear naked before him."

Alfred paused at that. On second thought...

* * *

"I look ridiculous," Alfred muttered, picking at the tunic and purple sash tucking it in at the waist. He had wondered how many times he had complained about his clothing. They now climbed huge set of black marble steps and at the top was a large platform with two huge double doors. Each door was several feet taller than Alfred and had a gold ring for a handle.

"It suits you then," Toris said, his sphere of light back.

"Har, har," Alfred grumbled. "My clothes were clean! My brother cleaned them last week at the river."

Toris ignored him as they reached the landing, the doors opened, seemingly on their own. Alfred's skin tingled. His heart picked up as he saw a gigantic banquet hall inside with a long oak table and tall windows on the opposite wall. Candles in brass holders and a chandelier above were the only source of light. Ivan stood up from where he sat at the head of the table, facing the door and opened his arms, that small smile on his face. He came around the table to Alfred.

"Greetings, Sunflower," he said.

Alfred gulped and then entered. The table had fruits, breads, endless deserts, and some kind of meat and cheese between two breads. What was that? This was food enough for several. Was Ivan trying to impress him? The thought made Alfred's heart skip a few beats.

Alfred jumped at a sudden noise and looked behind to see the doors had shut. Toris was nowhere and sight and had left him alone. Alone with the Ruler of Winter Rock. When Alfred turned back, Ivan was standing so close in front, studying Alfred intensely.

"What?" Alfred said, backing up. Ivan followed him, not letting them widen the distance. He loomed down at Alfred that purple gaze sucked Alfred in, just as it had when Ivan first appeared to him.

"You clean up very nice," Ivan nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath. "You smell wonderful."

"Don't sniff me," Alfred said, heart hammering.

 _Is he going to kiss me?_ Alfred half screamed no, no, and yes, yes!

"Sunflower," Ivan said, voice heady with lust. He seemed as enraptured by Alfred as Alfred was with him.

And then it happened in the slow motion that most traumatic events always happen in. The moment Alfred would never forget although he would try. All he heard at first was a popping noise and then, in the bottom of his vision, the front of Ivan's button-down coat blew outward, buttons flying off, and something burst out. It splatted in Alfred's face. A direct hit against his mouth and left cheek. All he smelled was the slimy organ that throbbed against his mouth, as if giving little kisses to his lips.

Warm liquid dripped off his chin and then it slid down and landed with a plop at Alfred's feet.

 _Lord Ivan's heart pops out_ , Toris had said. Pops out. Not erupts all over your face.

Sound stopped. Alfred could not heart Ivan's numerous apologies and comments about, "This has never happened before". Alfred had been rendered a mute statue as he absorbed the sheer disgust of the fact that Ivan's large, slimy organ had slapped him in the face. All he could see was the hole in Ivan's chest it had burst out of. Time seemed to skip beasts.

One moment Ivan was picking up his beating heart in a hasty scramble and the next he had left it on the table and grabbed a handkerchief. Alfred felt so violated. Ivan's lips kept moving as he said things, as he wiped Alfred's face clean. The only thing Alfred heard was, "A little got in your mouth."

That was it. Ivan's disgusting organ gunk was IN Alfred's mouth. He had probably swallowed some of Ivan's gross junk. Alfred could not handle anymore. His knees buckled and his mind shut down, as if saying, "Nope. I've had enough."

And Alfred blacked out.

* * *

(Premature heart-evacuation is no laughing matter. As you can see, hundreds of demons with the condition often have to deal with the eruptions at embarrassing moments. If you know someone suffering from this, please be supportive of their condition. ;)


	5. Reflection

**The Demon Way To Love**

* * *

The sighing breeze was distant at first. Then Alfred heard other noises: cicadas, rustling grass, and a meadowlark chirping nearby. Alfred lay there, breathing steady, basking in the warm sun.

 _Where am I?_

His eyes opened and drank in the azure sky that cottony clouds crawled across. Sunflowers surrounded the edge of his vision. He could feel several crushed under him. He lifted a hand to the sky and smiled when he saw he wore his brown jacket. He sat up, amazed to find himself in an endless field of sunflowers that stretched from horizon to horizon, bordered only by hazy purple mountains in the distance. A pollen-filled breezed pressed against his face. Dusting himself off, he stood up.

"Sunflower," a voice purred beside his ear and he yelped, jumping away in surprise.

"Ivan," he said, whirling around to see the demon standing there in his tan coat and scarf, holding an ornate wooden box. "What are you doing here? Aren't you hot in those clothes?"

"I am never warm," Ivan said with a hint of sadness. He raised the box up and fell to one knee. "Accept my feelings. This belongs to you."

Alfred colored, holding up his hands and shaking his head. "I can't accept that. I can't live in your world."

"Sunflower," Ivan said in such a pleading tone. "Take it."

In a moment of pity and drawn by a powerful curiosity, he let Ivan hand him the box. Alfred opened it, eyes widening in disgust at the sight of Ivan's pulsating, bloody heart.

"It's from inside me. Be gentle," Ivan said, eyes glowing opal, tone darkening.

"Never," Alfred cried, throwing it away. He spun on his heel and was in mid-run, when Ivan caught him by the waist and held him with ease. "Stay away!"

Alfred was tilted back, one of Ivan's hand holding him up by his back, and the other hovered over Alfred's chest. Ivan's gaze snared him, hypnotizing him. His body would not obey him.

Ivan clutched at Alfred's chest, finger pads sinking through Alfred's shirt and into his flesh. His heart hammered. "Your heart is mine. That is the demon way."

"I can't. I'll die," Alfred screamed as Ivan ripped his beating heart out.

* * *

And with a cry, Alfred crashed onto a hard, cold floor. He lay, back on the marble, feet on the bed, inhaling and exhaling. Faded paintings of white rabbits hopping on fluffy clouds in a blue sky covered the vaulted ceiling.

 _The hell...?_

For a moment he wondered if he was still in a nightmare. Everything looked so surreal. Grey light cast a soft glow across the alabaster ornamenting the walls and ceiling.

Rolling onto his side, he sat up, steadying himself with one hand on the canopy bed. As he stood up, he saw the ocher-colored, satin sheets were knotted and twisted - Alfred must have tossed and turned - and most of the plush, gold-threaded pillows were dangerously close to toppling off the other side.

 _An awfully big bed for one_ , Alfred thought, cheeks heating up. He shook his head.

Gauzy, white curtains veiled the arched opening that led to a balcony and, though he was dying of curiosity to look out at the dawn-lit landscape, he had a more pressing concern.

Spotting a porcelain wash basin, in the far corner, Alfred ran around the bed. It sat on a round table beside a thin-necked white vase with a fresh-cut sunflower. Alfred barely gave a thought to how they got a sunflower in winter as he splashed the chilly water over his face, throat, and lips. He scrubbed his skin, not sure if he would ever feel rid of that stuff, and even gargled some of the water, spitting it out in the vase. The memory made him shudder. It didn't matter that someone had cleaned his face before putting him to bed. Alfred did not feel clean.

While searching for a towel, he noticed his bomber jacket and tanned trousers on the cushioned seat of a chair with a white note on top. Picking it up, he tried to read the blurry words that Ivan must have written, but gave up, crumpling and tossing it away.

"Finally some clothes," he said and looked down. He was in a set of red-silk pajamas which meant. "Ivan did not undress me. Ivan did not undress."

He would repeat that until he believed it.

Finally, feeling like himself, he studied the room. Time had left its mark. Nothing did not have some hint of age. The ceiling painting extended down the walls to become a sunflower field, a grime-covered and faded one. At the edges the canvas had began to curl the room had a musty odor, like his grandfather's attic always had.

The polished-oak vanity near him had an oval mirror and a surface littered in dust-covered cosmetics. Had this been a woman's room? He wondered, going to stare into the smoky mirror. It had distortions in the bottom and gave a strange depth to his image, not like ordinary mirrors that made him flat.

He laughed, admiring how handsome he was. "Can't blame Ivan for wanting this," he said, winking at himself and turning sideways to admire his cut figure. "I'm your hero," he said huskily, giving himself a half-lidded look. Who could resist him?

He licked his palm and slicked back his cowlick.

A movement drove his gaze to the upper corner of his mirror and he screamed. A woman stood by the curtains; her long, disheveled hair and dress matching their color.

With a strangled cry, he whipped around, grabbing a cosmetic to throw at the apparition, but saw nothing. Just the curtains of the balcony, fluttering in the breeze. Nothing was there, he told himself, setting the compact back in place, easy to find by the dustless-space.

"Idiot," he said, resisting a shudder. And yet, though he could not see her face clearly, he had been sure it was painted with fury, as if she despised him above all other things. After another glance at the mirror, he realized where he thought she had been standing was in front of a large, black oak wardrobe, the sort that was big enough to house several items of clothing. Returning to the other side of the room, he grabbed the left handle, even though he felt sure it would be locked. To his surprise it opened and a moth-ball fell out. Looking into the interior, he saw several dresses hanging up. Most were gathered to the right side and all were carefully preserved. They looked old, very old and smelled old. The one on the left was white and long sleeved with a veil. Alfred froze with shock.

 _A wedding dress?_

What did Ivan intend for him? Alfred would never submit to being forced in such outfits. Never.

Alfred glanced at the double-doors. That was out. He was not willing to brave those hallways of horrors. Which left...

He threw open the curtains and ran out onto the round balcony, gaping in awe at the vision of the wide valley and the village of Hetalia below. It should be colder up here, much colder. There was a spell on the castle keeping it tolerably warm.

Down below, stretching to the horizon was snowy forest and clouds and mist covering the land. The sea of clouds went on and on. He had never imagined anything so beautiful. He stared down, leaning over the stone railing, thinking of his brother and family. How many times had he spent hours staring up here and wondering what this view would be like.

"Idiot," he breathed. He stared over the side at the sheer, craggy drop. A plummet until the snow at the castle walls. There were cracks and places to grab. "I can do this," he said aloud. "Yeah." He went to the side and swung a leg over and then the other.

He was Alfred F. Jones and he would risk the perilous climb.


	6. Lessons In the Library

**Lessons In the Library**

After climbing down ten feet, the true cold of this altitude began to appear. Within ten more feet, a shivering Alfred realized, _I can't do this._

Suddenly, the handsome, heart-popping Ivan did not seem so bad. Alfred could get used to that. What he could not get used to was the idea of plummeting to his death because he got a little scared of a ghost and an organ.

Just as he reached for a crack to start pulling himself back up, a large weight landed next to him, small rocks sliding off as Toris talons sank into the cliffside causing spiderweb cracks to radiate outward.

Alfred cried out, almost losing his grip.

"Scales!" he snapped, exhaling and inhaling to calm himself. Slowly he looked up to himself reflected in one of the jeweled-green eyes of Toris. He softened, realizing Toris might be able to help him. "Thank Himaruya you're here."

"Are you escaping?" Toris asked, serpent lips never pulling back. He spoke in Alfred's head.

"N-No," Alfred quickly said. "I'm exercising. Needed the fresh air."

"Humans can survive high falls?"

"No," Alfred said.

"Then why exercise like this? You would splat on those rocks and Lord Ivan could not put you back together again." Alfred felt queasy at both ideas. "Speaking of Lord Ivan, you are to meet him after breakfast."

 _Breakfast?_ Alfred perked up, stomach growling.

"I'll wait for you to finish exercising," Toris said, starting to clim up when Alfred called out to him.

"Wait!" Toris looked at him. "I'd hate to be late. Can you give me a lift?"

* * *

Alfred sighed, patting his stomach.

 _That breakfast..._

Paradise.

He had been served something called a hamburger and another delicious thing called an omelet. Alfred was thinking he could deal with Ivan's organ-popping if he could eat like that every day.

They were now in a long, long stretch of hallway, lined with slitted windows that allowed in midday sunlight on one side and tapestries of sunflowers on the other. All of which appeared painted by different artists.

 _Ivan loves sunflowers_ , Alfred thought. _Is that why he keeps calling me 'sunflower'?_

Alfred blushed at the implications and shook his head. He hit himself a couple times to knock sense into him, electing a puzzled look from Toris who led him.

At the end of the hall were two ornate double doors, one of which opened on its own with no sign of a person pulling it. Alfred's skin crawled and he tried to block the idea that Ivan had specters for servants.

Toris gestured for Alfred to enter first and he did so, giving the door a wide berth.

When Alfred was inside, he gaped at the library.

 _Mattie would've loved this_ , he thought.

Volumes crammed the shelves, all sizes and colors. The oldest ones sat in the upper levels, out of reach without climbing the narrow metal spiral staircases on either side. Scripted gold lettering, faint as mist, could still be seen along the spines.

His footfalls echoed on the polished oak flooring. There were two levels. The banister followed an sinewy curve on either side as it extended to the back wall. There Ivan waited behind a large dark wood table with stacks of books, rolls of parchment, and a couple ink pots with a quill littering the surface.

Alfred had been so mesmerized by the room his eyes had skimmed over Ivan who had that small smile and his hands clasped behind his back.

With the excitement of a six year old discovering a new toy, Alfred could not resist rushing over to a bookcase and and ran his finger over the bumpy raised lettering of the title. He had never touched such nice books before.

Alfred had often seen Matthew look with envy at all the wealthier kids carrying their books to school. One year, after working extra for coppers, he saved enough to get a nearly worn-out and falling apart book with a cover featuring a boy in a straw hat fishing.

He gave it to Matthew who for months after would not be without it.

Matthew would put on gloves to handle it, cautious of the yellowed, moisture-stained pages. Although he could not read, he learned to recognize patterns in the text. Matthew almost fell to his death a few times, climbing onto the roof of the school to secretly peak in on the classroom and learn letters.

Alfred joined him because that's what heroes do.

The place smelled woodsy and of crisp paper.

Even though Matthew tried to help him, all Alfred saw were blurs. He gave up after a time, supposing he was just stupid.

"Sunflower, you can explore later," Ivan called, voice echoing through the room just as the doors shut.

"Scales?" Alfred said, glancing around only to realize that yet again he had been left alone with Ivan.

Not this again.

As he approached Ivan came around the table and gestured for Alfred to sit at a chair in front of it. He stopped, trying not to stand directly in front of Ivan.

"Be at ease," Ivan said, unbuttoning his chest to reveal a waistband tightly wrapped around the middle of his torso. That wasn't what had Alfred's attention though: it was the hint of Ivan's pecks just inside the coat.

He went red. Ivan has... pecks?

"If it's all the same, I'll keep my distance," Alfred said, mouth running dry. His hand shook, wanting to explore. No! He told himself.

"Are you ready for your lesson?" Ivan asked.

Alfred frowned, snapping out of his admiration. "Lesson?"

"The one I told you of in the note."

"Note...?" Alfred had a flashback of that crumpled piece of paper he had tossed aside. "Oh that. Right. Gotcha."

Ivan's eyes narrowed. "You read it, da?"

"Of course," Alfred said.

"Then on your knees. Time to pleasure me." Ivan said with a smile.

Alfred nearly fell over in shock as he backed up a step. His face felt like a furnace. "What? What do you..." he trailed off at Ivan's giggling. "It's a joke?"

"You did not read the note," Ivan said, straightening up.

"Did too. Skimmed it."

"I see. Then hop up," Ivan said, patting the corner of the table. "Lay down and spread your legs."

Alfred went rigid and relaxed as Ivan laughed again, clutching at his stomach. "This is not funny."

"Why didn't you read it?"

"Well," Alfred said huffily. "Who could read that chickenscratch. You call that handwriting?"

Ivan's face went cold and he slid a sheet of parchment across the table and a quill and ink bottle. "If you can do better, then show me."

"I don't hafta prove anything," Alfred blustered.

"Why are you angry? Is it embarrassing that you can't read?"

"Shaddap!" Alfred snapped, stomping a foot. "I'm not stupid. You don't anything."

And then he regretted his words and wished he could take them back. Ivan walked toward him, his dark purple aura coming out. Alfred's curled his hands into fists, refusing to wilt.

"Be grateful I can control my anger," Ivan said. "Now sit down."

"Why should I?"

Suddenly, Alfred felt yanked at his torso and thrown by an invisible forced into the chair and held there. The chair pushed in and Ivan stood beside him.

"What wa-"

"Pick up your quill," Ivan said.

"I w-" Alfred's hand was forced to grab the pen. Ivan's power was frightening. "Stop this."

"Stop arguing," Ivan said, leaning over the table. "Lesson one."

Alfred didn't like this.


	7. The Green-Eyed Goblin

**The Green-Eyed Goblin**

* * *

"This is stupid," Alfred said, shoving the paper away and throwing the quill down. He had more ink on him than the paper.

"Nyet, you're just stupid," Ivan said calmly. He sat beside Alfred, uncomfortably close, with the chair turned around so his arms could be folded on the top of it.

Alfred gritted his teeth, trying not to mouth off again to the Demon, but Ivan seemed to want to make Alfred angry. While he could be sure, he had a suspicion the demon enjoyed "teaching" Alfred a lesson. And Alfred was not going to give him any more of that satisfaction.

Wanting a distraction, Alfred asked, "So why did you bring me here? Just to be a jerk and teach letters?"

"Because your heart called for me," Ivan said casually.

"Did not," Alfred said. "I'm not crazy. I didn't want a demon to whisk me away."

"You didn't?" Ivan asked, raising one of his silver-white eyebrows. "You have called to me for a long time. Your lips lie; your heart does not."

Alfred frowned. That...that's not true, he wanted to say. "I didn't want this," Alfred mumbled and before Ivan could respond, added, "Why do you keep calling me Sunflower?"

"Because I like sunflowers. And I like you."

Alfred turned red and quickly turned the paper. Without looking at Ivan, he said, "A Sunflower's a weed."

"Like you," Ivan agreed and Alfred's frown deepened. "Now enough talking. Please write the word 'dog' and this time write a 'd' not a 'b'."

"My brother is the bookworm," Alfred said, crossing his arms. "Bother him."

"Do children not go to school in your village?"

"The wealthy ones do," Alfred said. "We're farmers."

"Why are you against learning?"

"I am not against it. I am against doing a pointless thing," Alfred said. "Mattie tried to teach me. He learned some. I couldn't learn. They're all just blurs."

Ivan leaned in close and grabbed Alfred's by the jaw. Alfred tried to lean away, protesting, "What's your problem?" but Ivan held firm, staring deep into his eyes.

Suddenly, Ivan let go and stood up. He stared at Alfred. "I understand."

"Huh?" Alfred said, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't."

"Stay in the library, Sunflower," Ivan said with authority. "I will return soon."

"What am I supposed to do?" Alfred called as Ivan quickly strode out.

"Find a book you like," he called without looking back.

And soon Alfred was left alone.

"Find a book I like?" Alfred said, looking around. He grinned, jumping to his feet. "Of course."

He went to find some picture books.

* * *

 _"On your stomach, lift your left up. Very good, Sunflower," Ivan whispered in Alfred's ear as he rammed into him. Alfred moaned in..._

"Lord Alfred?" Toris called, snapping Alfred out of his fantasy. He shut the book he had been reading and stuffed it out of sight behind his back moments before Toris appeared in the aisle of books with another silver tray. It had a plate of another of those hamburgers. "Have you found a book you like?"

Alfred swallowed hard and nodded, face reddening. He was in the upper section of the library, sitting on the floor near the arched window, using the afternoon sunlight to read.

"Right there," he said as Toris set the tray down and then left him with a bow.

When Alfred had chomped down the burger, licked his fingers clean and wiped them dry on his pant legs, he pulled the worn book back out and thumbed through the various pictures to where he had last left off. All the pictures in this were sexual and he kept having fantasies of Ivan doing these things to him.

Fantasies he would die before admitting to.

He could almost read the title. It was something like _Kamasatra? Karmasuta? Kamasootro?_ It looked foreign. He was not surprised Ivan had something so pornographic in his library.

As Alfred leaned his back against the books and adjusting his position to be the square of sunlight, he frowned when a shadow fell over him. A passing cloud? He looked up and was startled to see startling pea-green eyes staring down at him in an olive-skinned face.

The man had curly brown hair that looked unkempt. He smiled and looked cheerful, but Alfred realized he was not a human. The man had slight-fangs and pointed ears and he wore a black outfit with silver threading along either side.

" _Hola_ ," the creature said, smiling brightly. " _Que bonito!_ You must be Ivan's new pet."

Alfred gaped, wondering what was this thing.

The creature took advantage of Alfred's shock and leaned further over the sill, grin widening as he saw Alfred's book. Alfred snapped it shut and shoved it behind him, but it was too late.

"A pervert?" Antonio said. "Passion can't be learned in a book."

With wicked speed, he moved like a blur and suddenly was atop Alfred who was knocked onto his back and his wrists were pinned to the floor above his head by the creature who sniffed him.

" _Deliciousa,_ " the creature chuckled. He straddled Alfred's sides. "My name is Antonio." He breathed in Alfred's ear. His voice husky and smooth. "You'll be moaning that soon."

Then he lowered his lips to a stunned and blushing Alfred.


	8. Lust-Dust

**Breath of Love**

* * *

Alfred's mind finally snapped to the realization of what was happening and, just as Antonio's lips grazed his, he tilted his head back and head-butted Antonio right in the nose. The Spaniard let go of his wrists, cursing up a storm in Spanish, and Alfred threw his hand out, grabbing the first thing he found - the Kamasutra book, and smashed it into Antonio's temple.

The man flew off Alfred who rolled to his feet and ran to the book case, ripping copies off and chucking more at the Spaniard. It became a comical sight of hard-covers smacking into a cursing Spaniard who tried to bat them away. Each time one hit him, he said, "ow, basta!"

" _Basta!_ " Antonio said, holding up his palms in surrender. Alfred had a large book lifted over his head, ready to throw. "A joke! I wasn't going to touch Ivan's pet. _No soy loco!_ I have a message for Ivan."

Alfred continued to back toward the end of the aisle, ready to shout for Toris, with the book raised over his head. "Why should I care?" Alfred asked.

"Because it is about you," Antonio said.

Alfred lifted an eyebrow and lowered the book. "Me?"

Antonio brushed off his front, looking at the books laying around his feet. "Lord Ivan got attention with his show. You smell like an Hetalian. A friend of mine has a brother living there. Do you know Feliciano? He's married to the mayor."

Alfred almost dropped the book. Then he laughed. "Another of your jokes? Ludwig is married to _Feliciana_ and she is his wife."

"Wife?" Antonio laughed, slapping his knees. He wiped at his eyes. "Oh you humans. So easy to fool."

He backed up and hopped up to sit on the sill, letting his legs swing back and forth. Pointing outside toward Hetalia, he said, "Feliciano is neither female nor human. He is love-sick for that human fool, Ludwig, and disguised himself to have him."

Curious Alfred, came closer, keeping the book in one hand. It couldn't be, he thought. "How could Ludwig not notice?"

"Simple," Antonio said, reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pouch and poured a little pile into his palm. It glittered like pink-tinted sand. "Do you know what this is?"

Alfred leaned a little closer, shaking his head. "What?"

"Magic," Antonio blew it right in Alfred's face.

Dropping the book, Alfred threw himself backwards against the book case, knocking a few off as he coughed and sneezed and slid to the floor. As his coughing abated, he felt a wave of dizziness. The world rocked and swayed. He grew aware of laughter nearby and looked up through tunneled vision at Antonio who crouched beside him with a smirk.

Antonio grabbed Alfred by the front of his shirt and dragged him to his feet and into a slow-kiss that sent tingles rocketing through Alfred's every pore. He moaned into the pressure of those lips and sighed at the feel of those hands caressing his back side.

He was spun around and pushed onto the sill's ledge. He felt so funny.

"What...what did you do?" he managed through his haze as Antonio broke contact, allowing him to draw a quick breath.

"Sh...," Antonio said, pressing a forefinger to Alfred's lips. "Let the magic work. You see it's easy to make a human desire a demon."

Alfred's eyes rolled back when Antonio let a hand slide up his thigh. Antonio seemed beautiful and Alfred could not say no.

" _Que bien_ ," Antonio said. "Ivan's pet will call my name in pleasure."

 _No. Stop. This is wrong._ A part of Alfred's mind shouted, but Alfred could not stop. He was yanked into another bruising kiss and Antonio's tongue violated his mouth. Alfred flushed from those rough hands all over.

 _But Ivan will..._

That thought was silenced by Antonio's hands all over. Alfred was lost in a haze of pleasure


	9. Ivan's Answer

**Ivan's Answer**

* * *

 **(Warning: mild gore and adult content)  
**

* * *

"Good, Ally," Antonio panted in Alfred's ear as Alfred rutted against him, one foot planted on the sill and the other on floor. Alfred groaned with pleasure, his body twitching from need, when the Spaniard slipped a hand down the front of his trousers and stroked his manhood.

Alfred came hard with a cry in Antonio's hand.

"Touch me," Antonio urged in his ear, his other hand pressing down Alfred's shoulder, urging him to his knees. "Use your mouth."

Flushed and already hard again, Alfred slid down and waited, mouth open in anticipation, as Antonio undid the front of his black pants. Alfred keened with desire. He would do anything.

 _No! No!_ A lost part of him screamed, but he could not hear it.

"Taste me," Antonio purred, pants started to fall down when his gaze flicked up, eyes widening, to something behind Alfred moments before Alfred was ripped away.

Suddenly, in a blur of motion, Alfred was being held bridal-style in arms that seemed made of iron. His eyes climbed up that chest to see Ivan holding him, his expression boiling-mad. Ivan's eyes glowed with opal fury.

A gurgling sound drew Alfred's attention to where Antonio stood, but he wasn't there. Alfred looked up and up to see Antonio pinned against the granite wall above the window. Pinned and splayed against the stone, pants at his ankles and his underwear exposed. A invisible force seemed to hold him and drive him deeper into the granite.

"Lord Ivan..." Antonio gasped and was whammed deeper into the wall. His face was a mask of pain.

Through his drugged haze, Alfred saw Ivan. Really saw him. _Beautiful_ , Alfred thought, keening with need and desire. He squirmed against Ivan's toned chest, attempting to rut against him, yet Ivan held him firmly in place. "Ivan, help me," Alfred whined, wanting his throbbing need satisfied. There was a soft glow around everything he saw. The air appeared to swim around him. Alfred looked back at Antonio when the Spaniard screamed and was whammed even harder into the granite. Ivan's much sexier, Alfred thought, smiling and curling against his demon prince. The display of strength only turned Alfred on more. "Make me one with you," Alfred said in a husky voice, leaning up, close, but unable to kiss Ivan's lips. Ivan's nostrils flared. He sniffed Alfred. His voice quaked with rage as he glared at Antonio and said, "Lust dust? Even for goblin-scum, that's low."

"It wa-" A girly shriek ripped from Antonio when his hand - the one that brought Alfred to climax - turned into a spray of green blood across the wall. Cries dying off, he yelled at Ivan, " _Puta_ , that'll take forever to regrow."

The room darkened; light seemed to flee from Ivan. Alfred's skin tingled with building charge; hairs rose up; the air thickened and jelled. Ivan's eyes blazed in an inferno of violet fire. In a deep voice, punctuated by an odd high-pitched giggle or two, Ivan said "Give me a reason not paint the walls with your insides. You dared to enter my house and touch what isn't yours."

Antonio licked his lips, eyes darting about. "It was a joke, Lord Ivan. A bit of fun. I didn't kn-" His foot exploded, creating another splatter. Antonio howled in pain, eyes lolling up.

"Da, this is fun," Ivan said, stretching his pale lips into a wide smile. He giggled as he added, "What's next? Your head. Or the _head_ you think with..."

"Not Spain, "Antonio begged, face naked with panic. He squeezed his legs together to protect his privates. "Have mercy. Ally, tell him it was harmless."

"Ivan," Alfred said, words slurred. He hiccuped a little. "He made me feel so good. We are gonna do the Kamasutra."

Ivan's eyes darkened, brows drawing together. His expression smoldered; a thundercloud could have been forming over his head for how his purple aura darkened and expanded, reaching for a whimpering Antonio.

"I know a _fun_ idea," Ivan said, shifting his glare to Antonio. "I tear that twig you call your cock off and gag you on it. Fun, da?"

Antonio shook his head. "Master Arthur sent me! I'll never touch your pet again. _Nunca! Nunca!_ "

The aura shrunk, retracting and releasing Antonio who landed with a thud on the hard-wood floor. He curled into a ball, clutching the stump at his wrist to his chest.

" _Eres loco!_ "Antonio yelled, trying to worm away as Ivan approached him. His back hit the wall.

"Arthur sent you?" Ivan said, smile returning. The menace did not leave, but became hidden. "Why?"

"B-b-bec-cause," Antonio stammered, shaking all over. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

In a flash, Ivan stomped on the stump at Antonio's ankle. The Spaniard wailed in agony.

"Why?" Ivan repeated calmly.

Alfred knew he should be horrified, but everything just aroused him more. He felt incapable of a non-pleasurable thought.

"A m-message," Antonio said, voice choked with pain. "Master Arthur h-heard of your pet. He wants to meet him."

"Ivan," Alfred mumbled. "Enough. Let's leave him."

"Antonio," Ivan's eyes blazed. His aura radiated out, reflecting in the Spaniard's green eyes. "This is my answer to Arthur."

Antonio's mouth opened in screams to come.


	10. Cooling Off

"Clean it up," Ivan said without pause as he passed Toris.

"Did you kill him?" Toris asked, voice rapidly getting distant.

"Nyet," was all Ivan said, before they rounded a corner. Stairs, hallways, and more went by in a blur as Alfred snuggled against Ivan's chest, feeling hot and fevered.

"Please," Alfred begged. Ivan wouldn't let him touch himself. "I ache."

"Hold on, Sunflower," Ivan said, his voice sounding wobbly. "Love dust provokes arousal in humans that becomes a high fever and soon a coma. Orgasm will hold off that part, but only for so long."

"Touch me," Alfred moaned, feeling Ivan tense against him. Alfred did not care when they entered a kitchen area. Ivan could take him on the table. He needed him now. Suddenly, Alfred was dropped in a metal tub of cold water. The icy liquid soaked into his clothing and pores. Sputtering and shocked, he climbed out, dripping and shivering. His erection turning limp.

"You crazy bastard!" He snapped.

"Ah, you're back," Ivan said with a please sigh.

"Back, what do you..." Alfred went rigid, remembering everything that had happened and his behavior through all of it. "Himaruya help me. I must have been crazy."

If he had not been drenched in cold water, he would have turned crimson from head to toe. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him right now. That Spanish bastard had humiliated him. He felt sick inside.

He climbed out of the tub and turned to the nearest contain, a metal bucket in the corner, and vomited in there. His insides wanted to come up. Alfred did not even flinch when Ivan patted him on the back.

"You were drugged," Ivan said in a voice that sounded concerned. "Love Dust is potent, but cured by dunking the victim in cold water."

"Does it cause my guts to come out?" Alfred said, dry heaving over the bucket. Alfred hated how his shoes and trousers squished.

"I don't believe so," Ivan said. "But it could make you aroused at anything. Your fingers being cut off." Alfred stared at Ivan in growing horror. "Your brother being disemboweled before you. Under the affects of Love Dust, you won't care. Everything will get you off."

"That's disgusting," Alfred said. "That sick bastard used that on me?"

"He's still alive. After Toris heals most of him, you can punish him more," Ivan said in a dark tone. Alfred considered this, but shook his head.

"It's done. I don't want to go through that ever again."

"I understand," Ivan said. He was crouched beside Alfred.

"I'm surprised you didn't take advantage of things," Alfred said, wiping off his chin with the back of his hand. He flinched when Ivan slammed a hand against the wall above Alfred leaving him trapped in the demon's circle of arms.

Ivan's piercing eyes stared straight into his, as if seeing into the depths of his soul. "I've no need of such inducements, when I want you," Ivan said, "you will want me. You will crave me."

"Never," Alfred said, attempting to laugh.

Ivan loomed closer until Alfred felt his cool, minty breath against his cheeks. "You will beg for me and when I've finished, you will beg for more." Alfred turned red, heart thudding, pulse racing. "Now," Ivan said, gaze dropping down Alfred's front. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

And then he stood up and left Alfred. This time Alfred felt aroused for a reason that had nothing to do with magic dust.


	11. The House of Pleasure and Pain

(Apologies for the long wait. Many valid excuses happened from natural disaster to medical. But I finally got this out. Sorry there is little Ivan).

* * *

 **The Palace of Pleasure and Pain**

* * *

"Just wonderful," Alfred said, fidgeting with his tunic. He was in a black one with a gold sash and black pants again. However, this time the clothing felt tighter on him, especially around his chest and buttocks. "These are too small."

He hated that his clothes once again had to be "cleaned".

"You must be getting fat," Toris said in a dry tone without looking over his shoulder. They had been climbing a winding staircase of a tower for what felt like hours.

Alfred glared at Toris' sinewy back, eyes narrowing. "I'm not fat," he said. "It's muscle."

Toris did not reply, but Alfred was sure the were-beast was smirking.

Although Alfred would never admit he was tired, his legs were starting to feel like lead. He was also nervous about this "surprise" Ivan supposedly had waiting for him at the top.

 _"You will beg for me and when I've finished, you will beg for more."_

Alfred colored as he remembered Ivan's words. He shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Never".

"Pardon?" Toris asked, glancing briefly behind him. His green sphere of light kept the granite walls dimly lit.

"Uh..." Alfred found a topic. "Wh...what did you do with Antonio?"

Alfred could only remember hazy fragments of Ivan's 'message' and all were grisly. He could not believe Antonio survived that.

Toris chuckled darkly. "The goblin is not dead. Lord Ivan is not that merciful. Most of the goblin will be sent back to Lord Arthur. The remaining pieces will arrive eventually. Little Spain will be the last."

Alfred shuddered. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he was curious. "I thought demons and stuff could regrow their limbs. Why send it like that?"

"The limbs regrow only if the original piece died. By preserving it and storing it, the limb never dies and thus does not regrow. A weakness of beings like ourselves."

Alfred almost lost a step. Then that meant... Antonio would not be complete until Ivan decided he could be.

"Remind not to get on Ivan - Lord Ivan's - bad side," Alfred said.

"Lord Ivan could've done much worse. He could have sent Antonio to Lady Elizabeta," Toris said.

Alfred was afraid to ask, but once again his curiosity won the day. "Who?"

Alfred could hear the smile on Toris' lips as he spoke of the subject. "She is the world's oldest and most powerful and most perverted succubus."

Succubus. Alfred knew stories of such creatures. "A sex demon?"

"They feed on orgasmic pleasure," Toris said. "They say she's so ancient she longer needs physical intercourse for nourishment. Being in the mere presence of it will feed her unrelenting appetite. Rumors say she likes to watch."

"Is this sex some kind of torture?"

"Perhaps I should tell you the name, as said in your tongue, of her mountain stronghold in Hungary. It's called 'The House of Pleasure and Pain'."

One of the steps slightly crumbled under Alfred's boots and his arms pinwheeled until he caught himself against the wall. Toris waited a moment until Alfred was following him again.

"She feeds off pain?" Alfred asked

"The pleasure some derive from others' sexual pain can also feed a succubus. I didn't say both partners have to enjoy things. Her clients are said to pay enormous sums to act out their most twisted fetishes."

"She has customers. You means its a brothel?"

"Of sorts. She's extremely wealthy, perhaps more so than Lord Arthur. Elizabeta is said to watch many of these shows from behind veiled curtains and feed off the pleasure. It said she loves mating the 'cute boys', so the goblin would've been very prized by her."

"What if the men don't want to mate?" Alfred asked with rising disgust.

"They will. There are things more potent than love dust and more subtle," Toris said with a hint of sadness. "Many are sent to her House for various reasons - sold for debts that can't be paid, enslaved, as punishment - few ever leave alive or with their minds intact."

"They're prisoners?"

"The ones sold or given to her, yes. But if you met them, they would not think of themselves as prisoners. They are too drugged and lost in the 'pleasure' and utterly addicted to what she serves. They often lost track of time and, if they don't die or become too mad to be used anymore or too old, they are tossed back out into the barren rocks around."

"That's horrible. To keep people in such a place for decades..." Alfred was revolted.

"Decades?" Toris paused. "Not decades. Especially not for the humans taken there. Days. With each orgasm a human or demon has, she devours a little of their youth. Their time is stolen. A human might age thirty years there in less than a month. She might allow some to become servants who clean up the filth and bathe the others and serve food and drink."

"And Lord Ivan lets this place exist?" Alfred was revolted. _Bet he's used it himself,_ Alfred thought with increasing contempt. How could he have considered the demon to have any decency?

"It disgusts him, but neither he nor Lord Arthur have the power to stop it. Her stronghold is shielded by an impenetrable and rather mysterious barrier. She never leaves and if they entered her domain she would be more powerful than both of them."

"No one can stop her?"

"Once, a powerful demon, Lord Roderich, had great influence over her. They were married, but they split ways. Her desires became... too much for him. Her kind has a power very unique to demons. There was said to have existed an incubus from Prussia, equal in power, but he disappeared a long time ago. He's probably long dead. The only records left are what he wrote himself. He mostly describes himself as an 'awesome fighter'."

"Hmph," Alfred said, lips curving in a smile. That reminded him of Gilbert. How funny was it that Gilbert had anything in common with a legendary incubus?

 _If I ever see him again, I'll tease him about it_ , Alfred thought.

Toris stopped at a trapdoor in the ceiling with a ladder up the stone wall.

"We're here. Master Ivan waits at the top of the tower. He wishes to show you something very special."

Alfred swallowed, mouth going dry and feeling nervous in his stomach. What was Ivan planning?

Toris opened the trapdoor and late afternoon light spilled in. Alfred covered his eyes with his arms, as they adjusted to the light.

When he lowered him, Ivan stood in the square opening, holding out a hand for Alfred to take. He had a small smile.

"Sunflower, you're here," he said.

And, after a little hesitation, Alfred took that cool hand and was lifted up.

* * *

 **(Mostly setting the groundwork for the eventual villain. And no, it's not who you think.)**


	12. Delights Beneath the Moonlight

**Delights Beneath Moonlight**

* * *

(Got stuck in this part of the story for a while. Now it's good. Figured it out.)

* * *

Lifted wasn't the right word.

Wrenched up was. Toris had been surprised that humans could not regenerate their insides. Alfred imagined Ivan had little conception that you could not manhandle them this way either.

When his feet were on the flagstone and Ivan let go, Alfred massaged his aching shoulder and wrist. _That's the last time I accept his hand_ , Alfred swore to himself. He'd nearly lost his arm!

"Injury from the gobling?" Ivan asked with concern. Late dusk shadows cloaked his features, making his expression impossible to read.

"No," Alfred said, wincing as another spasm of pain shot through his arm. How could Ivan be this clueless? "I'm not a rag doll!"

"I know." Ivan said simply, as if baffled by Alfred's outburst.

"No, I mean you can't yank me around like that."

"Like what?"

Alfred groaned and gave up. After glancing at the trapdoor to see it shut and Toris gone, he went to the crenelated wall rimming the tower top. He craned his head back, wishing his eyes could see more. He gave a whistle and said, "Now that's a view. I've never seen so many stars."

"Da," Ivan agreed. The faint purple glow in his eyes stood out from his shadowed face. If Alfred did not know him, the site of the shadowy hulking man with demonic would have been disturbing. Well, more disturbing. "It always is up here."

Dusk was nearly gone. The rising moon bathed everything in a silver glow. Alfred stared down into the valley, thickly blanketed by clouds, only the mountain tops poked out like distant islands stranded in a sea of clouds.

 _Hetalia and Mattie are down there_ , Alfred reminded himself, feeling a pang of sadness. He missed his brother.

"Why did you bring me here?" Alfred asked.

"I can't answer that," I van said softly in Alfred's ear. The sudden closeness startled Alfred who found himself pinned against the wall by Ivan. Before he could slide to the side, Ivan had placed his hands to either side of Alfred. "Until I know who you are."

"I'm Alfred F. Jones," he said. "And I'm not yours to play with."

Ivan chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest, and flashed a grin of pearl-white teeth. "We're not _playing_. This is not a game. I want to open your eyes."

He came close enough for Alfred to smell Ivan's minty breath. Licking his lips, dry from the air, Alfred planted his feet and refused to lean away. "My eyes are open. Don't be silly."

"Are they?" Ivan asked, teeth glittering in the moonlight. "Then why have you not noticed it?"

"Noticed what?" Alfred asked.

"One of my gifts for tonight," Ivan said, walking casually toward the center. "Are your eyes too light-blind to pierce the secrets of the _dark_?"

 _What is he blathering about?_

"There's nothing..." Alfred trailed off. The air wobbled and distorted on Ivan's right side, then a cylinder-shaped object, almost as tall as Ivan, appeared beside him. It was angled at the sky and mounted on a metal tripod. "What the hell? How did you that?"

"I did nothing," Ivan said. "It was here the whole time, cloaked by shadows. Your eyes simply slid over it."

Alfred came over, circled it, and studied its various knobs and gears. He loved machines and always had. He couldn't contain his fascination. "What is it?"

"A telescope," Ivan said. "A human invention I quite enjoy."

"Telescope?" Alfred had never heard of such a thing. "What's it for?"

"For seeing distant things, such as stars and the moon."

"The moon!" Alfred's heart almost leaped into his throat. He hopped from toe to toe, giddy with excitement. "It can show the moon? The moon in the sky? I've always wanted to go there!"

Alfred reddened as he realized he had blurted out his childhood fantasy, a dream that Matthew often called "silly". Ivan, however, didn't laugh. Instead he pointed at the sky and said, "Da. I want to go up there one day."

"You do? You don't think it's silly?" Alfred asked.

"Not at all."

For some reason those words made Alfred smile. It was the first time anyone had not ridiculed Alfred's enthusiasm for the celestial bodies. Turning back to the telescope, a pleased Alfred asked, "How does it work? Does it need a spell or something?"

"Nyet," Ivan said. "From what I know this device comes from a time when humans invented things. An age before magical creatures reawakened to walk the world."

 _A world without magic?_

What would that be like? Alfred could not conceive of such a place. He started to reach for the top of the barrel-shaped device when Ivan warned him against touching the aperture. Instead he waved Alfred over. "Come, Sunflower. Let me teach you."

Although he felt a little uncomfortable standing between Ivan and the telescope, he soon lost himself in trying it out. Ivan pointed at the smaller of two long cylinders affixed to the side and said, "Look through the eyepiece."

Alfred placed one hand on the cool metal surface for balance and leaned over. With one eye closed, he looked through and saw... nothing. In defeat, he said, "I don't see the moon."

"Because it's not pointed at it."

"Then why didn't y-" Ivan was suddenly pressing against Alfred's backside. Alfred went rigid and started to stand, but Ivan placed hands on Alfred's shoulders and held him in that position.

"Relax," Ivan said. "I'll help you."

A flashback to earlier made Alfred twinge in his nether regions. _This isn't good._

"Ivan," he began.

"Hush," Ivan said, gloved hands sliding to engulf the tops of Alfred's hands. He watched like a puppet as Ivan guided him to various knobs and twisted them. Soon the telescope was adjusted, but Ivan only pressed closer to speak directly in Alfred's ear.

 _You don't have to stand so close_ , were wored stuck in Alfred's throat.

"Look again. Open your mind," Ivan said.

Repressing a shiver, Alfred peered into the lens and nearly forgot Ivan's proximity. He saw it. The pasty, grey surface he had dreamed of for so long.

Voice bursting with glee, Alfred said, "It's amazing. I can't believe..."

Palms grabbed his abdomen. Quick fingers massaged there and slipped under his clothes. Alfred sucked in a sharp breath; grip tensing on the metal. When he said nothing, Ivan explored further with those hands, probing across Alfred.

"A reward," the demon breathed possessively, almost a growl. It sent a pulse of desire straight to Alfred's groin. His breathing grew ragged.

One of Ivan's hands went up, under Alfred's tunic, teasing his nipples and rubbing them tenderly, while the other climbed down into his pants. When Ivan took hold of Alfred's manhood, Alfred's legs became like jelly and Ivan was all that held him up.

Those strokes sent waves of pleasure through Alfred. Soft, shuddering moans escaped his lips and his head lolled back. He rested his head on Ivan's shoulder. The moon filled his eyes. That bone-face seemed to watch Alfred as his insides wound tighter and tighter with each stroke and tug.

He climaxed with a strangled cry under that leering face. His feet barely touching the ground as Ivan held him.

Panting and gasping for air, his body quaked from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He had never felt anything like that before. Ivan let Alfred slide to the ground at his feet.

"Is the night not fun?" Ivan asked.

A chill pierced Alfred's heard as he realized what had allowed Ivan to do. Still in shock, he barely reacted when Ivan picked him up bridal-style and carried him to the trap door.

"I've another gift for you tonight," Ivan said.

If Alfred had not been so muddled me might have reacted with alarm. For now he was too sated to protest.


	13. A Gift of Sight

**The Gift of Sight  
**

* * *

(Another slightly sweet moment between the two)

* * *

After nagging and struggling enough, Ivan finally had put Alfred on his feet. No matter how fast Alfred walked, Ivan kept pace beside him.

"I don't need to be escorted," Alfred said. He could not get what happened on the roof out of his head nor Ivan's touch.

"One more gift," Ivan said.

"I don't want it!"

Alfred took another set of stairs, two at a time, and found Ivan never lost pace beside him. The demon wasn't even winded.

 _Does nothing tire him?_

A dirty image flashed in Alfred's head and he quickly banished it. Finally, outside his room, Alfred reached for the handle only to have Ivan slap his hand on the door, preventing it from being opened.

"Hey!" Alfred said. "What?"

He didn't care if the doors kept Ivan out. All he wanted was to slam them in Ivan's rounded face just once. Embarrassment, anger, and a whirlwind of doubts coursed through Alfred now.

"My gift," Ivan said with a small smile.

"You can't come in," Alfred said, not sure how he could keep Ivan out. "I'm not ready... for this."

 _Ivan doesn't mean?_

"For my gift?"

"That kind of thing is not a gift!" Alfred said, voice going higher than he wanted. "I'm not ready."

"It's fine," Ivan said and reached into his coat, fumbling for something above the waist.

"I can't!" Alfred cried, faced colored. He backed away. "Stop it!"

"You must accept." Ivan pulled out a small wooden box decorated in floral carvings. "It's made for you."

 _A box?_ Alfred gaped, thinking of his dream of Ivan offering Alfred his beating heart.

"Open it." Ivan thrust the box at his chest. "The shop owner said its his strongest pair. Very independent. He warned they might slip off or _secede_ , as he put it, every now and again."

Slowly taking the box, Alfred listened for any throbbing sound. He opened it slowly and found an thin-rimmed pair of glasses resting inside a blue-velvet interior.

"Glasses?" he said, taking them out.

"They were hard to find. I added some enchantments so love-dust won't affect you."

"They're magic glasses?" Alfred said, eyebrows lifting. Now that got his interest.

It had taken a good chunk of his family's fortune to afford Matthew a pair of second-rate glasses. Alfred could not believe he was now being given magic glasses.

Touched, he smiled at Ivan and said, "Thank you."

And he meant it. This was the best present ever.

"Wear them." Ivan nodded for Alfred to try them on. After putting the box in his pant's pocket, Alfred unfolded the glasses and put them on. The world changed. Shadows melted away until the hallway no longer looked dark and gloomy, but as bright as day. He shuddered as shaped retreated; somehow aware they visible.

"Dude," Alfred said, staring around. Ivan's castle had been transformed by a pair of glasses. "These are amazing."

Ivan came as close to beaming as Alfred had ever seen. His smile looked on the verge of a grin. Maybe it was the glasses, but he was radiant in Alfred's new vision.

What a difference glasses could make!

"You like them?" Alfred nodded vigorously. "Then I am glad."

When he turned to leave, Alfred grabbed his shoulder. He stopped, looking back. "Da?"

"Would..." Alfred swallowed hard, feeling his adam's apple slide up and down, "you like to come inside?"

There was something ironic about inviting the ruler of the castle into one of the rooms of his own castle.

"Will you be lonely without me?" Ivan asked.

"No!" Alfred said, cheeks burning. Why did Ivan have to tease?

A cold look entered Ivan's eyes as he glanced at the room and he grew somber. He shook his head and said, "I better not."

 _What?_ Alfred thought. _After you couldn't keep your hands off me earlier?_

Was Ivan an obnoxious tease or what?

He took Alfred's hand and kissed the top.

"Good night."

Then he left. Alfred watched him go.

When Alfred entered the room, he was shocked by the chill in the air. His teeth began to chatter. Ivan had left with no candle. Something both him and Toris always forgot about as if they forgot that Alfred did not have their amazing night vision.

The glasses helped him see. Although he stubbed his toe on the dresser once and nearly tripped on a discarded towel from days ago, he managed to get ready quickly and crawl under the covers.

Why was this room so cold? Didn't they enchant it to keep the chill out.

 _I'll have to talk to Toris about this_ , Alfred thought. He curled deeper under the covers and felt himself sliding into a troubled sleep.

He dreamed he was falling and, as he fell, a woman sobbed. She cried and begged. Then came a cackling, a mad and cruel laughter that rang throughout.

And Alfred found himself in a dream where he wasn't him.

( **Next Chapter "Smiles That Hide Screams"** \- Is it just a dream or is Alfred seeing a glimpse from another life? The first introduction of fem Ame and Dark Matt as the tragic past begins to influence the present.)


	14. Smiles That Hide Screams

**Smiles That Hide Screams**

* * *

(Warning: Disturbing themes of implied abuse. The introduction of Dark Matt and Fem Am - the tragic past lives of Alfred and Matthew)

(The stakes begin to appear)

* * *

 _"All things truly wicked start from innocence"_

 _\- Ernest Hemmingway_

* * *

When Matt had tied off the large, purple satin bow behind her back, he began smoothing the creases out of her white frock. Amelia never moved, flinched, nor reacted to the soft tugs of her twin brother's slender fingers. With arms out, she remained a statue, staring at her own dark blue eyes in the tall, oval-shaped mirror. Amelia watched without seeing herself or her twin brother.

Matt circled her, his movements hindered by their cramped quarters, and straightened her long tresses that flowed down her back and over her shoulders like a golden shower. Multi-colored ribbons were woven throughout her hair and a crown of cloth sunflowers was affixed to her head. Not real ones. It was too deep in winter for real flowers.

Once satisfied with his handiwork, Matt straightened and stood in front of her. He studied her and said, "That should do. That demon bastard won't be able to resist you."

"Thank you, Matt," Amelia said.

"And you're sure he loves sunflowers?"

"Yes, Matt."

Suddenly, he grabbed her chin and jerked her face towards his. Heart thumping with fear, Amelia could not directly meet his gaze, so instead stared at his nose. In the candlelight his eyes looked more black than their normal amethyst hue. The shadows turned the faint snarl on his worm-like lips into a sneer. He leaned close enough for her to smell the maple syrup that always hung heavy around him. Her brother ate it on everything, often making her enjoy it too. In a voice seething with menace, he said, "I warned you not to do that."

"Sorry, Matt," she said, forcing the corners of her mouth to lift and the muscles to crinkle around her round eyes. Faking a smile took effort.

"With teeth." His thumb and fingers bit painfully into the sides of her mouth. When Amelia had plastered on a grin that he was satisfied with, he released his grip. "Better."

"M-Matt," she said, voice shaking. It terrified her to speak out at all, but she wasn't sure she could go through with this. "M-Maybe we shouldn't. Ivan is a demon lord. What if we're caught?"

Matt smirked and looked at her in bemusement. "Oh, Lia." He only called her that when he was pleased with her. "You're worried I'll forget about you." When he placed his hands on her shoulders, Amelia wanted to scream. Instead she widened her grin. "Never fear. I'll never let go of my beautiful sister, the only one who understands me. I wish I could lock you in a cage and keep you all to myself."

Amelia's skin crawled at the thought. Her cheeks hurt from the effort of maintaining her happy mask. She couldn't decide who was more terrifying: Ivan or her brother.

He cupped her chin and said, "It disgusts me to let him have you. You know that, right?"

"Yes, Matt."

His eyes narrowed, brow furrowing. Her desperation rose as his expression soured. What had she done wrong?

"Stop doing that."

"I'm sorry, Matt," Amelia said, confused.

Suddenly, he let go her chin and, with the same hand, backhanded her across the face. The blow almost sent her to the floor. Stars danced in her vision. "Stop sounding so fucking sad! You know I hate seeing you unhappy!"

She blinked back tears, worried they'd make her eyes puffy and red. Matt wouldn't like that. Although her cheek throbbed, she resisted touching it. Through a throat constricted by her urge to cry, she managed to speak cheerfully and said, "I'm sorry, Matt."

"Sorry! You're always sorry." He threw up his hands in frustration. "If this bruises... why'd you hurt yourself? Now I'll have to fetch ice for it!"

"I'm sorry, Matt," she piped. Muscles hurting from her grin.

 _Don't cry,_ ran on repeat in her head.

"I suppose you can't help it." His tone softened and he cupped her injured cheek. She tried not to wince from the pressure or show her revulsion at the contact. "You're nothing but a pretty face after all. It's not fair. I'm the clever one. The learned one, but I might as well be invisible. All anyone notices is you. An empty-headed idiot. I see the men look at you." His voice darkened; his eyes took on mad light. "I want to kill them for that. No one should covet what belongs to another."

"No, they shouldn't," Amelia agreed sweetly. In her head she fantasized of stabbing Matt to death. Of watching those eyes turn lifeless. Would she be free of him then? It was something Amelia could never do. Matt would figure it out and then... Amelia would be very sorry. He had told her many times the terrible things he'd do to her if she ever betrayed him.

A soft smile ghosted his lips, one that resembled the face of the kind brother she once knew. It vanished a moment later, replaced by his cruel smirk. He glanced toward the half-open window. Far off music from the festival was drifting in, almost cut-off by the wintry winds. "I wish the Moon Pole Dance wasn't nearly here. That that demon bastar wasn't coming for you. How will I live knowing he _has_ my dear sister?"

Her fingers dug painfully into her thighs as her grip tightened on the sides of her dress.

"I'll miss you." The lie rolled easily off her tongue. She told it for years.

He cups her cheeks and said, "Remember. Keep your eye on our prize. When we have the Braginski Treasure, then I'll become the Ruler of Winter Rock. With the power of a god, I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

 _Except you_ , she thought, alarmed it would show in her features.

"I'm trusting you," he said. "Don't fail me."

"I won't," she said. Her legs wobbled, strength giving out. What would Ivan do to her? Would she be safe with a demon?

"You're doing it again," he said, but this time he didn't look annoyed. "Don't be nervous. No matter what happens I will always find you in this life or the next. Death won't keep you from me."

Her grin almost faltered. Amelia glanced at the mirror as her brother began to lead her out. Her own empty and hollow gaze stared back at her.

And Amelia made a wish.

 _In the next life, let me be born a man._

* * *

Alfred woke, thrashing so hard he tumbled out of bed and banged his head on the carpet. For a moment he lay there breathing heavily, taking in his room, grey with early morning light.

A wave of bile rose in this throat and he bolted to the bed pan on a table near the dresser and retched last night's meal into it. After several minutes of dry heaving, he slid to the floor. He reminded himself that he was Alfred, not Amelia.

Who the heck was Amelia?

 _Why was Mattie in my dream?_

No, not Mattie, he told himself. Someone who looked exactly like his brother, but without glasses or kindness. Just the thought of "Matt" brought Alfred back to dry heaving into the bed pan. Never in his life had Alfred had such a vivid dream.

That other Matthew had been horrid. Nothing like his sweet and shy brother.

Matthew once fell on a frog and cried, not because of the frog guts smearing his clothes, but because he killed it on accident. Alfred's brother, who never left Alfred kill insects or rodents in their home, would never slap a person, let along a woman like that.

"Just a bad dream," Alfred told himself before heaving into the bed pan again.

When he finally felt better, he lay restlessly in bed until Toris came to rouse him.

Over and over Matt's words haunted him.

 _Death won't keep you from me._

* * *

(A bad dream or much more? Is Matthew in danger? Stay tuned...)


	15. The Warpstone

**The Warpstone**

* * *

(I tend to go in update "bursts". I update a bunch and then hit a wall on the plot and stop until I resolve it. I got a lot of the chapters figured out and some time to write them. Enjoy. Also thank you Crimsoncatangel, ThisIsEarth, GaaraShinigami, and sasunaru13 and everyone else who reviewed, liked, and/or favorited. Your kind comments motivate me to update faster. Even if it's a short comment, the power of kind words should never be underestimated.)

* * *

Toris sea-green eyes widened and his mouth fell open when he saw Alfred waiting at the door, dressed and ready for breakfast. If Alfred hadn't been preoccupied thinking about last night's odd dream, he might've relished the were-beast's surprise.

"A-are you well?" Alfred barely noticed Toris had forgotten to use the honorific 'Master Alfred', something Alfred had harped on him to stop using for the past couple days.

"Amazing as always," Alfred said with a grin and a thumbs-up.

 _I warned you not to do that_.

Alfred tensed, trying not to let his smile falter as Matt's words echoed in his head. Why had a stupid dream affected him so much?

"W-well, you should have let me help you. I've told you it's my duty." Toris fussed over Alfred's bomber jacket - returned to his room last night - and smoothed wrinkles from his white shirt.

"And I told you I can dress myself." Alfred said in a half-hearted tone. The need to see Matthew had sunk its teeth into Alfred's mind and would not let go. "Toris, can I go home? I really miss my brother."

"If you can convince Lord Ivan," Toris said, lacing up Alfred's shoe. It had apparently come undone.

"That won't happen. He doesn't listen," Alfred said with a sigh. Raising his pitch a little and putting on a small smile, he mimicked Ivan's accent and posture and said, " _Nyet, Sunflower. You must stay. Always stay with me. Like a pet. Can you bark? You must bark."_

A smile ghosted Tori's pale lips. In an encouraging voice, Toris said, "Ivan is not unreasonable. Give him a reason it's worthwhile and he'll consider. And, in other news, Lord Ivan has another gift for you."

"Another? Why?"

 _The glasses were great, but the telescope..._

"Lord Ivan must be in a charitable mood." Toris stood up, nodding with satisfaction at Alfred's apparel.

" _That demon bastard won't be able to resist you now, Lia._ "

"What?" Alfred grabbed Toris' upper arm. "What did you say?"

A sour expression crossed Toris' features and Alfred let go of him. "I said you look presentable, Master Alfred. Is something the matter?"

"It's fine," Alfred said with a shake of his head. "Sorry."

"Do you need medicine? I could have some prepared for you."

Alfred couldn't help but grin wider at hearing the real concern in Toris' voice. _He's nice behind that jerk-attitude._

Slipping on his glasses, Alfred said, "Nah, I'm fine. Just hungry." He decided not to tell Toris about throwing up last night. "Let's go."

 _The room's a lot warmer_ , Alfred noticed as he followed Toris out.

As they walked, Alfred gaped at the castle. The glasses had transformed it to far a less eerie place. Was this how it looked to Toris and Ivan? It had gigantic vaulted ceilings in many hallways. "Hey Toris, have you heard of an Amelia?" Alfred was too busy gazing around to realize Toris had stopped and almost collided in his back. "Toris?"

Then, as if he hadn't halted, Toris began walking again, much faster than before. Finally, Toris answered, "No."

"Are you sure?" Alfred asked, having to run to keep up. "Hey, slow down."

Toris did. Slightly.

"Positive," the were-beast said. "Why do you ask?"

"I thought I overheard someone say Ivan knew an Amelia once."

"Who?" Toris' voice was low and dark.

"Someone."

"You'll have to ask Lord Ivan," Toris said as they reached the library doors. It felt like the were-beast had never been more eager to thrown open the doors and let Alfred inside. "Lord Ivan awaits you."

Alfred passed by Toris and the doors shut behind moments later. Ivan was on the other side of the room, pouring over a book on that over-sized desk.

"Ah, Sunflower," he said, glancing up. He smiled softly and his round face looked radiant in the late morning light that streamed from the eastern-facing windows. "Did you sleep well?"

Alfred crossed the oaken floor. Now instead of the dream, his mind was struggling not to remember the telescope and not to blush. The glasses had not wiped out the majority of his embarrassment and anger.

Ivan came around the desk, carrying a large wooden doll, bigger than a melon, painted all around in the figure of a woman in a very traditional black and red dress.

 _My gift_ , Alfred presumed.

"Are you ill?" Ivan asked, placing the back of his hand against Alfred's forehead. "You're warm."

"Duh." Alfred stepped out of reach. "That's because you're cold. I'm tired. I didn't sleep well."

"Missed me that much?" Ivan teased. Alfred leveled an unamused look at him. Ivan held up the wooden container. "I have another gift."

"Better not be like the telescope. I'm not interested in being molested."

"If you say so," Ivan said with a small chuckle. He pushed the item at Alfred's chest.

"And this is?" Alfred asked skeptically. Noticing the top part was a lid, he twisted it off and found another wooden doll inside.

"A _Babushka_ doll. The gift is in the center."

"A doll?" Alfred said flatly.

Finding another doll in the second one, he went to the table and set them out in order of decreasing size. After about six nesting dolls, he reached one the size of his thumb. A thought stopped him from opening. What kind of gift was this small?

 _A ring_ , he realized.

 _Oh no._ The idea of Ivan proposing horrified him. Alfred's gaze drifted up to a smiling Ivan who nodded for him to open it. It didn't help when Ivan rubbed at his knee, as if about to kneel. Could it be true? Could things get more insane here?

Were all the gifts... wedding gifts?

Alfred was not fine with this. He was a man. Ivan was a demon. This couldn't be happening.

He shook the container, heart freezing when he heard a rattle. A ring-sized rattle.

"What is it?" Alfred asked in growing alarm. That twinkle in Ivan's eyes made him nervous. Why did the demon look so eager?

Had he stolen Alfred away to make him a bride of sorts? Alfred had heard a story - one he couldn't quite remember - of Ivan doing that once. Now he wished he had paid more attention to the elder's story tie and less goofing off with Matthew.

"Something very special," Ivan said.

"I don't need it." Alfred thrust it at Ivan's chest.

The demon's brow crinkled and his smiled faded. Those dark violet eyes hardened and his pale lips pressed together. Alfred felt the temperature drop and the air pressure grow.

He swallowed hard; it took everything to not back away from an increasingly annoyed Ivan.

"I appreciate the gesture," Alfred added. "But you've given so much. I can't accept all the charity."

"This is for you," Ivan said. His height grew and the shadows thickened around him. Suddenly, Alfred felt very small as Ivan loomed over him. "Open it."

When his tailbone hit the desk, Alfred realized he had been backing away.

"Ivan, I'm not ready," Alfred said. "I can't. I need to go home. My brother needs him."

"Open it. _Now_."

"No." Alfred pushed it harder against Ivan's chest. "You can't make me. It's too fast."

Ivan's hand clenched around Alfred's hold on the last _Babushka_ doll. They squeezed Alfred's knuckles. Leaned over, he said softly in a voice full of warning, "Open it."

"No!" Alfred said, struggling as Ivan tried to forced his fingers to twist off the lid. The struggle left Alfred half-sitting on the desk with Ivan hunched over him. A pushed-ff book flopped loudly on the floor.

"Stop being stubborn!"

"You stop!"

"Open it!"

"No!"

Soon Alfred's was sprawled over the desk, Ivan between his legs and leaned over his chest. Alfred's hands were clenched around it with Ivan's hands wrapped around his. They were pinned above Alfred's head. It was only when Alfred felt a bulge against his thigh that he realized the compromising position they were in and turned bright red.

"G-Get off!" Alfred said.

Ivan looked down, eyebrows lifting as he realized it too.

"I'm rather comfortable," Ivan said. Alfred's knuckles pressed into the paged of the book Ivan had been reading before. That smile returned. "Clever boy, tricking me into this."

"This was not intended!" Alfred kicked and struggled to get back on his feet. However, Ivan wouldn't budge.

He pressed harder; Alfred became more aware of that size. He blushed head to toe. _Is Ivan a tripod or something?_

Ivan kissed softly at Alfred's throat.

"Stop that!"

"Open it." More kisses peppered Alfred's neck and throat.

He shut his eyes, starting to feel aroused. If this continued, they would go further than last night.

"All right! Just get off me!" Alfred said.

He was released and Ivan backed up, palms up and a look of innocence on his face. "Glad you saw the light. Tell me next time your in the mood."

"I'm not in the mood," Alfred said, crossing his legs as he sat on the desk. He grabbed the doll. "Fine. You want me to open it. But the answer is no! I'm not read to marry..." He trailed off after he popped off the top.

There was what looked like a tiny piece of coal inside. He looked at Ivan, eyebrow raised, and met an equally confused expression.

"Marriage? You move fast, Sunflower. I suppose children are next?"

Alfred could not color anymore. Attempting to calm down, he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Finally, he asked, "What is this?"

" _That_ is a warp stone," Ivan said, bemused. "I wanted to show you a special place."

"Where?" Alfred asked. He dropped the stone into his palm and set the container aside. The left side of the desk was now lined with doll parts. Holding it up, Alfred watched the round stone glitter in the sunlight. "What does it do?"

"I'll show you," Ivan said, placing one cool palm under Alfred's and the other on top, concealing the stone. Then he shut his eyes and spoke deeply in a language Alfred did not recognize, but one that sounded beautiful and powerful.

The stone glowed, lighting up the veins in Alfred's hands. Then it warmed and grew hot until Alfred felt his flesh would burn. He tried to drop it, but Ivan held his hand in place. Pale white light blazed out, spreading up their arms, swallowing them whole.

"Ivan, it burns! It burns!"

He felt tugged inside and then yanked as he cried out.

Where the two had stood, now no one was.


	16. The Demon King of Britannia

**The Demon King of Britannia  
**

* * *

(The first appearance of Arthur)

* * *

Landing hard in the grass left Alfred out of breath for a few moments. He stayed on his hands and stomachs, gasping for air. His mind reeled. His skin warmed from sunlight. Alfred looked up, his vision edged by the tall sunflowers and wild grass surrounding him, into a clear blue sky. Pollen floated lazily in the air.

"The hell?" He stood up on shaky legs, sneezing a couple times. He was in a gigantic cavern; its distant walls climbed high and faded into the magical sky overhead. "Where the hell is this?

"Inside Mt. Cold," Ivan said, strolling towards Alfred. The tall stalks and grass bent apart to create a path for Ivan. Alfred was sure magic was being used. "This is my refuge. Do you like it?"

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Alfred said, pinching the top of his hand. Nope, still hurt.

Ivan laughed, or more like giggled, at the comment. "If you were, this would be heaven, da?"

Alfred disagreed on that, but before he could reply Toris appeared in a flash of smoky green light that dissipated quickly. Ivan's face soured as he turned to his servant.

" _What?_ " Ivan's voice was dark and threatening.

"Sire, forgive me," Toris said, a nervous tic in his words. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "Lord Arthur has arrived at the gates and demands an immediate audience with you."

Ivan's eyes burned the deepest purple Alfred had ever seen, like candle of violet flame burned behind them. Ivan scowled. In a booming voice, he said, "He _dares_?"

 _Arthur?_ Alfred remembered the goblin had mentioned an Arthur, one Alfred had meant to ask about.

An ebony aura licked Ivan's sides. "Toris!" The were-beast flinched at his name. "Stay with Alfred. Watch him. I won't be long."

"Yes, sire."

"Wait," Alfred began, but Ivan vanished in a vortex of black smoke. "Jerk."

Toris stood up, dusting off his brown jacket. Sunflowers, some as tall as his shoulders, bobbed against him. He sneezed several times. Soon his eyes and nose had reddened. "Master Al - achoo - would you li- achoo - to - achoo."

The sneezing became so bad his body was doubled over.

"Scales, does the pollen bother you?" Alfred asked.

"No, Al - achoo -" Toris fought to straightened his posture. "If you don't mind," snot trickled down his nose, "I'd like to stretch my wings."

Despite wanting to ask about Arthur, Alfred nodded. "Go ahead."

"Th - achoo - you," Toris said.

There were-beasts changed; nose elongated; and his nostrils became slits. Scales glittered across his cheeks and face. A whirlwind of green fire engulfed him and, when it vanished, Toris had transformed into his beast-self. The creature Alfred rode to get here with Ivan.

Toris sneeze, one so loud that Alfred nearly covered his ears. Toris opened his wings and beat them; their gusts knocked Alfred back a step. Moments later, Toris was airborne. To Alfred's amusement, Toris continued to sneeze so hard it threw his trajectory slightly off.

* * *

Alfred ran his hand along the granite wall while he walked along. The impossible cavern was very damp and humid inside compared to the bitter winter outside. Moisture beads collected on the tips of his fingers. He stuck his forefinger in his mouth, nose crinkling at the water's sulfuric tang. It gave further evidence of Alfred's suspicion, one Hetalian folks long said about Mt. Cold, that it wasn't really a mountain. It was a dormant volcano. According to legend, a powerful beast slept beneath and would awaken one day to the end the world.

Alfred sighed. He was incredibly bored after what felt like hours of wandering around, even Toris looked tired. The were beast's circled had become sloppier as time went by.

Finally, Alfred cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, "Hey, Toris! Can we go yet? I'm tired of waiting!"

The obsidian beast altered its course, racing fast to Alfred. Then, with a sudden shrill cry, Toris crumpled in the air and crashed into the ground. His sliding body threw up sunflowers, grass, and dirt, leaving a wide flattened path through the field.

"Toris! Are you all right?" Alfred yelled, wading into the field. The weeds snagged and tugged at his clothing as he half-ran, half-hopped his way over. "What happened?"

By the time he reached Toris, the beast had curled up his body and furled his wings protectively around himself. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His slitted nostrils widened with each inhale of air.

"Toris?" Alfred tapped his toe against Tori's long head. "Hey, did you fall asleep?"

"The scent of Blue Rose," an accented voice said. Alfred spun around, looking for the speaker, but saw no one. "It puts were-beasts asleep."

"Who's there?" Alfred raised his fists; he took a defensive position in front of Toris.

"You are a striking one, love." That refined voice had a strange way of articulating words. The line of sunflowers, high as Alfred's head, split from each other, bending apart to allow a path for some invisible trespasser. Unseen feet crunched steps into the grass. "I see why Ivan chose you."

"Ivan gets very defensive. I'd stay back," Alfred warned, glancing over his shoulder at the sleeping Toris. "You should see what did he to a goblin."

A chilling laughter rang out around Alfred, growing so loud he covered his ears to keep the mad sound out. Cold air blasted his front and he held up his arms to shield his face. When he lowered his arms, he saw a man - less than a few feet away - standing in the newly-formed grass path.

The man's laugh died in a final chuckle.

Alfred hardly noticed. He was mesmerized, _bewitched_ , by what he saw. Never in all life had he seen someone so beautiful and handsome. The man's lean frame, delicate features, and the cat-like grace of his movements gave him an effeminate appearance.

But the most striking feature were those luminescent, emerald-green eyes and those eyebrows! Alfred couldn't help but wonder if a caterpillar died up there.

Hardly noticing, Alfred's fists slowly fell to his sides. He knew he should be terrified of this demon. That was rational. However, the demon had an affect, one that sapped away Alfred's will to resist.

The left corner of the demon's lips curved up in a smirk.

"He's not the only one who's possessive, love." Black smoky wisps rose from his sides. He raised a gloved hand, parting his dark cloak enough to reveal the dark green vest and black pants he wore beneath. "You must be Alfred. I can see why my servant liked you."

The words sunk into Alfred; his mouth went dry and his heart sped up. Could it be? "You're Arthur."

"The one and only," Arthur said, bowing his head slightly. Alfred returned the gesture out of habit, his mind barely noticed what his body had done.

"Where's Ivan? What did you do?"

Arthur chuckled, as if remembering something amusing. "Indisposed at the moment. You look delicious, love. I think I'll have a taste."

 _Taste of what?_

Arthur grinned, flashing snow-white teeth.

Alfred yelped as invisible coils of air wrapped around his waist, wrists, and ankles. They lifted him up and propelled him into Arthur's waiting embrace.


	17. Battle of the Demon Lords

**Battle of the Demon Lords**

* * *

Alfred's mouth had been full of many things over the years. Things his brother, friends, and he had sworn never to speak of again. Dares he had made, such as that time Gilbert swore Alfred could not fit more than five sausages in his mouth. Boy, did he prove Gilbert wrong. And Gilbert had to pay for all of them.

For some reason Matthew had refused to eat the free sausages just because they had been wedged in Alfred's mouth. Matthew could be so picky and a real nag in Alfred's opinion. Why he didn't even support Alfred through it all; instead whining that Alfred would choke to death. Well, Alfred proved him wrong! They fit.

Alfred knew he should not be remembering that feeling of fullness at a time like this. But it was all he could think of as his mouth was invaded by Arthur's roving serpent-like tongue. The seal between their mouths allowed no air. Just as with the sausages, Alfred had to breathe in and out through his nostrils.

Something locked his jaw and prevented him from biting down on Arthur's tongue. One of Arthur's hands cradled the back of Alfred's head and the other held Alfred up as he was leaned backwards, feet barely touching the ground.

For what felt like forever Alfred's mouth was violated by a kiss that became increasingly fierce and passionate. Then, with a soft nibble on Alfred's lower lip, Arthur released him.

Alfred landed with an "oof" on his back.

He panted for air, cursing his body for its reaction. Why did he tingle all over? It wasn't right. He rolled over and spat on the ground, disgusted by the taste of Arthur's lingering saliva in his mouth. In the seconds between catching his breath and standing up, Arthur seized him by the throat. Lifted until his toes scraped the ground, Alfred grabbed Arthur's wrist and beat at the demon's arm.

Those green eyes scrutinized him. Arthur tilted his head, saying, "You taste familiar. Like a flavor I once knew."

"Fuck off," Alfred managed, attempting to kick the demon.

A distant booming noise drew Alfred's attention to his right, but he could not turn his head. Arthur's eyes narrowed. The light dimmed in them. Speaking as if scolding a child, Arthur said,"Rude language will not be tolerated."

An invisible fist rammed into Alfred's stomach, knocking the air out of him. His mouth fell open and tried to suck in air that the world suddenly seemed void of.

When Arthur let go, Alfred went to his hands and knees. His fingers bit into the grass and moist black dirt. All he could make were wheezing noises.

He was distantly aware of Arthur circling behind him. Then, after grabbing the collar of his jacket, Arthur yanked Alfred back onto his knees. In his ear, the demon breathed, "Perhaps I'd remember if I felt inside you, love."

It took Alfred a moment of growing horror to realize what Arthur meant as his buckled started to undo itself.

A second later a blast of violet light ripped Alfred from Arthur's grip and threw him across the ground. He skidded several feet and stopped deep in the tall weeds.

Colored spots clouded his vision; his scrapes were a distant pain. All of that was overshadowed by Ivan's thundering voice. "Arthur, your skin will be good rug."

Alfred's heart skipped a beat to hear Ivan's voice, one that made Alfred feel strangely safe and disturbed at the same time. The high foliage blocked any view of Ivan, but Alfred forced himself to sit up. He had to look at him.

The ground shook, nearly knocking Alfred back down, but he rose on shaky legs. Waves of dizziness rolled over him. He blinked, disbelieving what he saw.

From the way Ivan and Arthur glared at one another they seemed determined to prove that looks could _kill_. The air pressure thickened, expanding outward and pushing Alfred back a couple feet. The grass flattened around the two demons. Alfred's heart hammered in his chest at the sight of the demons' boiling auras - contrasting hues of green and purple.

Such power. Such a glorious sight.

It enthralled Alfred. He envied what they could do.

"You went too far," Ivan said. He smiled, as if thinking of various ways to murder Arthur.

Licking his lips, Arthur said, "That twat is delicious. You should share."

 _I'm not a drink to be passed around_ , Alfred wanted to shout. He burned with indignation. Although he had to admit there was an allure about the shaggy-haired demon.

"Your spine will be a good trophy," Ivan said.

"Who is he?" Arthur's gaze flicked to Alfred. "A tribute for the Red Star?"

"Shut your mouth, worm," Ivan said, eyes flaring. Howeve, Alfred sensed an alarm in Ivan. Beneath that deadly expression on his face, behind eyes that concealed eons, there lay worry that Alfred had heard too much.

 _What is the Red Star?_ Alfred wondered.

"I ate your scones," Ivan said.

Arthur smirked. "I had wondered how you escaped so quickly. After all this time, you finally used that way. And for this human?"

Ivan grimaced. "You cook for shit."

The half-smile disappeared from Arthur's face, replaced by a scowl. His face reddened to his ears. "You take that back! As if you know good cooking, you arse!"

"Even humans in their short lives bake better than you," Ivan mocked.

Alfred frowned, feeling rather forgotten as the two continued to fight about cooking.

"You need a lesson," Arthur said, tossing his cloak over his shoulder. "I've not had a good workout in ages."

"Your head will go nicely on a pike," Ivan said.

Then they vanished in mutual whirlwinds of black smoke. The pressure of the air disappeared so rapidly that Alfred almost fell forward.

Up above and all around he heard booms from different spots that rattled the ground. They were fighting somewhere he couldn't see.

"Morons," Alfred breathed, heading to Toris. His throat felt raw and horse.

As he went, his fingers unconsciously touched his lips, reminding him of that kiss. Arthur had tasted like tea and burnt pastries. Even Alfred had felt something, something _familiar_.

With a shiver, he set to rousing Toris.


	18. The Other Side of Toris

**The Other Side of Toris**

* * *

(To write this chapter I had to some very interesting google research.)

* * *

Waking Toris had been a mistake.

Although Alfred had no idea what "Blue Rose" did exactly to were-beasts, he was getting a very good idea. No sooner had he coaxed Toris back into his human form then the were-beast flung himself on Alfred and knocked them both to the ground.

"Get off!" Alfred said to the were-beast snuggled against his chest. The more Alfred struggled the tighter Toris clung. Finally, with his free hand, Alfred grabbed Toris face and shoved him to the side and, not wasting his freedom, scrambled to his own feet and out of reach. "Have you lost your..."

Alfred trailed off at the sight of Toris grinning and rolling from side to side on the grass as a cat does on cat nip. The man looked oblivious to the grass and pollen sticking more and more to his clothes and brown hair. Or to how his eyes grew puffier and puffier.

"I'm a rorrin' rog," Toris sung, sneezes punctuating his every two or three words. The drunken slur to his speech and his stuffed up nose distorted his words to near incomprehensible.

Alfred ran a hand through his hair, not sure what to make of this. This Blue Rose stuff had transformed Toris in the way alcohol turned Matthew into a boorish brute and Gilbert into a rather sleepy bore. What was he supposed to do with _this_ Toris?

The playful Toris went rigid, lean arms slapping to his sides. Never had Alfred seen so much expression on that wide face, lifted from its normal plainness by a dopey grin that drew in every muscles of his features. The white of Toris' eyes were reddened at the edges and his pupils were dilated to the point of showing almost no iris. Alfred suspected this Blue Rose stuff might be affecting Toris worse than anything ale had ever done to Matthew and Gilbert.

Words rushed out in barely indistinguishable syllables as Toris said, "NowIamrock."

"Toris?"

"Shhh!" Toris remained still.

"Toris. You are not a rock!" Alfred grabbed Toris' upper arm to forced him to his feet. The flare in Toris' nostrils was the only warning Alfred received before the were-beast sneezed in his face. "Cripes! Gross!"

Alfred scrubbed furiously with his sleeve at his face and glasses.

"Mashar Althrad?" Toris had sat up. For a moment a look of concentration entered those deep-set eyes, then vanished as Toris clutched his stomach. "Immavomit."

"Can't you wait until Ivan's castle?" Alfred asked in exasperation.

"Iban? Mashar Iban?" He glanced around in alarm. "Vhere?"

Rumbles above sent more pieces of rock from the ceiling; some landing too close for comfort.

"He's fighting Arthur. We need to -"

"ARSAR! ARSAR? HERE?" Toris clapped hands to his temple, rocking back and forth, wailing, "Baaad! Baaaaad! Baaaaaaaad!"

"All right! I get it," Alfred interrupted, grabbing Toris' upper arm again. "Bad, right?"

Toris nodded. "He ish an Absolute Corrupshted."

"A what?" Toris sneezed, thankfully angled slightly away from Alfred's face this time.

"Arsar shold his shoul," Toris said grimly. "His rubber betwayed him."

Alfred translated that in his head as _'His lover betrayed him'._

A bobbing sunflower distracted Toris who reached out to poke at it. "What a pruty frowah. Prutiest...est...est...evah!"

"Focus, Scales," Alfred said, trying to pull Toris to his feet. "Is there way out of here?"

Alfred yelped when Toris' hands began patting at his front and smoothing his shirt. "Althrad! You're dirshy!"

When those slender fingers brushed Alfred's crotch, he grabbed Toris' wrists to stop him. "They're fine."

"Dirshy! Dirshy!" Toris insisted.

"C'mon, Scales," Alfred said, bending down to hook one of Toris' arms behind his nape and loop Alfred's arm around Toris' slim waist. He pulled him to his feet. It felt like he was back home nursing a drunk Gilbert and Matthew. Hopefully, Toris didn't turn horny and rut against everything as Gilbert did when he sobered.

Leaned against him, Toris stared up at Alfred. In a downcast voice, he asked, "Are you habby?"

"Not right now." Those words crumpled Toris like a dog who had been kicked. "I mean no, super happy! Thanks for asking!"

Toris brightened. "Guud. Mashar Iban said to keep you habby!"

Alfred frowned. "Why did Ivan say that?"

"Because... yur... yur impotent." Alfred really hoped Toris meant 'important' because the other word was so untrue! Alfred was virile as could be! "You know vhere... she hid itch."

"Hid what?"

"The Braginshke's ate her." Alfred sure hope he meant 'hate', but it was hard to tell.

"Toris, who are you talking about?"

"You know her name." Toris then bent over and puked, missing Alfred's shoe by an inch. "I veel betchar."

Alfred sighed. "We need to get back to the castle."

"Dat chtrue."

More booms, more chunks fell.

"Is there a way out?"

Toris stuck his hand in his vest pocket and dug around, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the left corner of his mouth. With an "a-hah" expression he pulled out a rose-colored gemstone. "Dish one worksh onsh."

"Is that a warpstone? Are you fine to use that?"

"Ish fine." Toris held it up. "Now remembah. Fink crear foughts!"

"Wait. No!"

Light burst out, engulfing Alfred and Toris. Alfred continue shouting, sure he was about to be warped into a wall.

* * *

When Alfred opened his eyes - first one, then the other - he saw his room in Ivan's castle. He had returned in one piece to the freezing room.

 _Is a draft getting in or something?_

"Hell yeah!" Alfred pumped a fist in the air. "Good work, Scales."

"Ungh..." Toris mumbled, slumping against Alfred who caught him and gently laid him on the four-poster bed where he curled up. The gold-threaded covers pressed inward at the weight of Toris. While Alfred was sliding off Toris' boot, the were-beast suddenly tried to sit up. "I cansh! Not here!"

"It's fine. You need rest." Alfred pushed him back down. "You're not yourself."

"No, no no! I mushnet! Ish againsh sha rulesh!" Toris said, eyes continuing to drift shut. "Thish room... ish... dangeroush..."

"What did you say?" Alfred asked, but Toris was already softly snoring.

 _This room is dangerous._

What did Toris mean?

An odd feeling drew Alfred's attention to the vanity mirror and his own reflection greeted him. His eyes narrowed, sure something was off about it. As he gazed, drowsiness hit him and he yawned, eyelids sliding shut. Before he knew it, he had flopped down beside Toris and pulled the covers over both of them. There they snuggled against each other.

Distantly he heard the booms of fighting and the tremors from it. However, Alfred soon found himself in a strange dream.


	19. Death Of A Sunflower

( **Note** \- Amelia's flashbacks are not being shown in chronological order)

* * *

 **Death of a Sunflower**

* * *

 _"Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead."_

\- Benjamin Franklin

* * *

Amelia had killed the sunflower.

Cut from its roots, its death was assured. The small knife used to severe the thick stem was already back in the hidden pocket of her woolen stockings. She rolled her victim between her thumb and forefinger, watching those long petals whirl in a spinning blur of mustard-yellow.

This was life.

You bobbed along happy in the breeze until someone ripped you away from your home and turned you into a tool to pass the time. The surrounding pines, oaks, and elms stood somber witnesses to the crime, but, as in life, they had done nothing. No one ever did anything. After all, who cares about a weed?

Her lower back, a mishmash of fresh purple bruises over fading yellow ones, ached as she scooted to the bottom of the boulder, careful to keep the hem of her white frock from dipping in the water. A brook, narrow enough to hop over, ran around the rock she sat on. She could see the top half of her heart-shaped face reflected in the calm surface.

Wind rattled the trees, disturbing the odd silence of the forest. Since late afternoon Amelia had not heard anything else, not even the occasional click and twitter of a bird. Why had the woods grown so hushed?

Not eager to return to Matt, she held up the flower and asked, "Should I?"

The first petal she plucked stood for "yes" and the next for "no". Alternating between the two answers, she continued removing the petals and discarding them to be carried downstream. When Amelia reached the last one - a "yes - she didn't pull it off, but threw it - still attached to its mutilated mother - into the water. The flower bobbed and dipped as it was ushered away.

A large shadow fell over Amelia. Her hand shot for her knife as her gaze jerked forward. She froze in mid-action - hand starting to slide under her dress and body in mid-rise.

The source of the shadow was a tall, broad-shouldered man who stood directly across from her. How he appeared was furthest from her thoughts; her mind consumed with what he was. Although it was absurd, Amelia believed him a statue at first. He stood so still; his pale, luminescent skin seemed so unworldly. He looked carved of alabaster and, for that fleeting moment, a part of her was convinced if she touched him she would feel not flesh, but stone.

A subtle shift in his stance shattered the illusion.

Those chilling violet eyes - the same hue as Matt's - regarded her from under hooded eyelids and pinned her to the spot. They refused to let Amelia look away. In the edge of her vision she studied him more, his chiseled features on their own bordered on plain, yet together vaulted him into the realm of breathtaking. Despite the lingering summer heat, he wore a thick, brown scarf and coat.

And held a faucet pipe in a gloved hand, something that should've alarmed her more than it did.

A shimmer in his opal gaze made her throat tighten; she realized he wasn't a man. He smiled, displaying a row of pearl-white teeth, and she felt released.

Amelia slumped back to sitting, hand dropping beside her.

With a clipped accent and in a voice far higher-pitch than his stature would suggest, he asked, "Are you an angel?"

"Are you a demon?"

He _giggled_ , but not in a silly, mirthful kind of way. It was best described as a ' _kolkolkol_ ' noise or a snicker in disguise. "If I am, does that frighten you?"

It should. She knew it should.

"No," she said after consideration. "But your intentions do."

There it was again, that _giggle_ that was not a giggle. He seemed amused. "What's your name?"

"Amelia." She stood up, glad for the height the rock gave her so she could look down on him. "What's yours?"

He cocked his head right, as if mulling over something. "Call me... Vanya."

"Vanya?" She mimicked his giggling noise to which he raised one of his silver-blonde eyebrows. "What kind of name is that? You're not related to that demon lord Ivan, are you?"

Since Matt and she had arrived, the Hetalians had told them endless stories of the Winter's Rock Ruler. Each one had only added to her curiosity of this creature.

Vanya giggled again. She wished he'd stop; it caused hairs to rise on her forearms. Was he mentally well? "I am familiar with Lord Ivan."

"Really? Have you seen him? What's he like?" Her curiosity would be the death of her, she was sure. "Is he as cruel as they say?"

"Nyet," Vanya said with a shake of his head. "He is generous to those who are worthy." Her face heated up as he leaned closer. "Why are you out here all alone in these dangerous woods?"

She frowned. "No reason. I like to be by myself."

"Why?"

"I just do." She shrugged, grimacing at a spasm of pain in her back. "Don't you?"

"Da." From his tone and manner of saying that, Amelia assumed that meant "yes". In a lower voice he said, "But you do have a reason."

She plastered on a grin, leaning away, rubbing her shoulder. "I guess I'm sad because I ruin everything I touch."

"Impossible." Vanya shook his head. "No one fails all the time. You likely ruin _mostly_ everything you touch."

From the earnest tone and demeanor, she sensed he was attempting to comfort her and failing badly at it. Why say _that?_

"Erm... thanks?"

He looked pleased and asked, "Do you like sunflowers?"

"I guess. I doubt they like me though." She chuckled at her own joke.

He extended his hand to her. "Come. I will show you a special place."

Perhaps she was insane, or maybe had a death wish, but Amelia took his hand. Even if Vanya dragged her to hell, a world without Matt would be a paradise.

* * *

"Shit ~" Alfred cried as he fell both out of the dream and the bed.

His nose bumped on the rug and he lay on his stomach, breathing raggedly, taking in his surroundings. Perspiration dripped form the tip of his nose and his drooping cowlick.

Why the hell did he dream of both Amelia and Ivan? That Ivan had been so different from the one he knew. There had been something very _sinister_ about him, something that said run while you can.

Alfred hopped to his feet and stared at the lavender pajamas he wore. He slapped a palm against his face. "Tell me Toris didn't dress me."

Speaking of whom...

He glanced around for the were-beast.

The bed was tidy and made. Alfred had been moved to the proper place on it. All that was definitely Toris' handiwork.

"Hey Toris! Alfred called, swiping his glassed off the bedside table and sliding them on.

To his surprise, there came a knock on the door, followed by Toris' soft from behind it, "Master Alfred, are you better?"

"Am I better?" Alfred couldn't believe Toris would ask him that. "What about you? And are Arthur and Ivan still going at it?"

Judging by the late evening light, Alfred had been asleep for hours.

"They're fight is finished and I am well. Thank you for asking," Toris said, sounding a lot more humble than in the past.

"Are... um... they both alive?"

"Very much so. If you are well, Master Ivan wishes to speak with you."

Alfred marched to the door, grabbed the handle, and threw the door open. A stunned Toris blinked as Alfred grabbed him by the front of his vest and yanked him into the room before shoving him up against the other door.

"I want answers," Alfred said. "Who's room is this?"

In a flat voice, Toris answered, "Yours, of course."

"Cut the crap. You told me it was dangerous here. Why?"

In a nervous voice, Toris said, "I don't remember that. I was not myself. I deeply apol..."

He trailed off as Alfred pressed himself against Toris and brought their faces within kissing distance. Alfred felt Toris tense against him.

"I'm sorry. Do I make you nervous?" Alfred asked, twirling one of Toris' locks with his forefinger. He put on the seductive grin that never failed to make the ladies in Hetalia swoon. After all, who could resist him?

"M-Master Alfred, this is highly improper." Toris' voice went up a pitch. "If Master Ivan sees..."

"Yes, we both know what happens when Ivan _sees_ ," Alfred interrupted. "But what about what Ivan doesn't _see_? Should I tell him about all the improper things we did while you were _not yourself?_ Our passionate lovemaking on the grass. And the bed... mmm." Alfred waggled his eyebrows.

Toris paled, inching away, as if trying to force himself through the wood. "We didn't do anything! I'd never betray Lady Natalia! She's the only one in my heart!"

"You don't sound confident about that." Alfred sighed. "It's not your fault. You get horny from a drug. Stuff happens. I understand. It's Ivan who _doesn't_."

Toris' adam's apple slid up, then down as he audibly gulped.

"You're lying. We did nothing."

"Ah, see there's the problem. You keep trying to convince me, but can you convince Ivan? Because I plan to tell him about the kinky shit we did."

"M-Master Ivan knows I'd never betray him. I wouldn't dare."

"While on that Blue Rose crap? Powerful stuff. I'll let him know you couldn't help yourself. After all, he told you to 'keep me happy'. I doubt he meant a blowjob though."

Toris reddened. "That never happened!"

Alfred felt a pang of guilt taking advantage of Toris' drug state like this, but he wanted answers. He needed to know if his suspicion was true.

"What is the name of this room's previous guest? It can't be that confidential," Alfred said.

Toris dropped his gaze and, in a defeated voice, said, "Amelia."

Alfred stepped away, knees ready to buckle. He ran his fingers through his hair, staring wildly around the room. He couldn't say anything. It felt like there was no saliva in his mouth, like his tongue was rubbing on sandpaper when it touched the roof. In a cracked voice, he asked, "Is this room haunted?"

Toris, already straightening his clothing, answered in a stoic voice, "Likely."

* * *

Even Toris struggled to stay apace with Alfred for once. "Master Alfred, you are not properly dressed!"

Alfred could care less that he was still in pajamas and barefooted. The only item he retrieved from that room was his jacket - he would not part with it - before bolting out. His heart pounded and he couldn't think straight.

"Where the hell is Ivan?" Alfred asked. He stopped, breathing heavily and leaned against the wall. His palms were sweaty. "That bastard put me in a room with a... a..."

Alfred couldn't say it.

"Take deep breathes, Master Alfred," Toris said.

"I'm never going back in there!" Alfred declared. "Not even if Ivan drags me!"

"Then I have good news," Toris said, showing a faint smile. "Because was that another thing I needed to tell you. Ivan informed me today that your quarters are to change."

"Huh?" Alfred looked at him. "To where?"

"I believe you'll find them satisfactory. They're the finest in the castle," Toris said. Alfred noticed the dark edge in Toris' voice and the were-beasts satisfied tone as he added, "You will stay in Master Ivan's room and share his bed."

* * *

( **Note** \- Next chapter will be steamy guys. As Ivan, exhausted from his battle with Arthur, finds Alfred's too tempting not to have a taste of.

TBC in... **When We Become One** )


	20. When We Become One

(Definitely some very adult content here. You've been warned.)

* * *

 **When We Become One**

* * *

"Ivan!" Alfred said as soon as Toris had opened the door to Ivan's quarters. Alfred only briefly paused to take in the gigantic room, huge canopy bed, fireplace, and vaulted ceiling before he marched to where Ivan sat.

The demon didn't even look up, just continued writing with his quill on a piece of parchment. The huge oak desk was littered with stacks of parchment and scrolls. Ivan deposted the quill in the ink pot and pivoted in his cushioned chair.

"Sunflower?" he asked.

Alfred slapped a hand on the polished desk, disturbing the pot of ink. He glared down at Ivan. "We need to talk."

After waving for Toris to leave and the doors shutting, Ivan threaded his fingers together, put them behind his head, and leaned back in the dark wooden chair. His gaze went down Alfred, then crawled back up. That eerie smile widened.

"Desperate to see me, da? Why bother with clothes at all?"

Alfred blushed, suddenly feeling naked in his brown jacket and the pajamas. He regretted not listening to Toris about changing first. His hands balled into fists, fingers digging into his palms.

"You put me in a room with a... a... gh-ghost!" Alfred shouted, jabbing an accusing finger at Ivan. "Are you sick or what! I'm not sleeping there or in here! I demand to be returned home!"

"Did those filthy lips of Arthur's give you a fever?" Ivan asked, saying Arthur's name with contempt.

"What? That has nothing to do with this. Don't change the subject!"

"You must be ill. Otherwise, why do you think you give orders?" Ivan said with a chuckle. He patted his lap. "Here, sit. Calm down."

"No way!" Alfred said, recoiling in disgust. "Are you listening? And who are you to give me orders! I didn't choose to be here!"

"You chose to be in this room."

"But not in your castle! Not willingly!"

"Details," Ivan sighed. "What's this about a ghost?"

"That room is h-haunted," Alfred's voice went up as he said that. "You put me in a h-h-haunted room. How could you!"

"Are you afraid of ghosts?"

"Not at all!" I just have a...a... healthy respect for the afterlife! Now how could you! You did it on purpose. You're evil!"

"So Toris told you it is haunted." Ivan's eyes took on a dull shine. He did not sound pleased.

Alfred swallowed hard. He didn't want to get Toris into trouble. "Arthur told me," Alfred lied. Ivan grimaced when Alfred said that name. "And that a woman named Amelia stayed there. You might remember her."

Ivan became very still and stared for a long pause at Alfred. Finally, in a more serious voice, he asked, "Arthur told you of Amelia?"

"Y-yes!"

"I don't believe you."

"Who is she?" Alfred asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Because... because... she haunted me," Alfred said. "I had dreams of her."

Ivan's eyebrows rose and, in a blink, he was on his feet. "You dreamed of Amelia?"

The hope in that tone stabbed Alfred through the heart. _I don't care_ , Alfred tried to tell himself, but it hurt.

"So you know her," Alfred said.

"This alters things," Ivan said, his smile almost reaching his eyes. "You are special."

Alfred's heart skipped a beat at those three words. Special. Before he could say another word, Ivan was on him, slamming Alfred against the wall, pushing him up until his feet only grazed the floor, and crashing their lips together in a sudden kiss that muffled Alfred's startled yelp.

Alfred grabbed at Ivan's shoulders, more out of an instinct for balance than to push him away. He was too surprised to put up resistance. His eyes went wide, glasses slipping slightly down his nose. Finally, just as he started to shove Ivan away, both of his hands were scooped up by Ivan's large one and pinned above his head by the wrists. They could have been manacled there for how little he could move them.

Refusing to open his lips to the demon, Ivan pressed his lower body against Alfred's pelvis to hold him in place and then used his other hand to grab Alfred's jaw, squeezing on the hinges painfully, forcing Alfred's mouth open.

Ivan deepened the kiss; Alfred, who had had enough, bit down hard on Ivan's bottom lip. He grimaced at the iron taste of Ivan's blood.

Ivan pulled back, licking the red off his lip. To Alfred's surprise, the wound healed before his eyes, leaving behind only a bit of blood. "Very stupid, Sunflower."

"Let me down!" Alfred said, squirming, but he stopped when he realized Ivan was enjoying the way he wiggled against him. _Ugh... he's turned on by this!_

"But I have to clean you," Ivan pouted, adding in a dark tone, "of Arthur's stench."

Alfred's eyes bulged when Ivan lifted him and threw him across the desk, knocking off the ink pot, letter, and papers. And Ivan was over him, pushing his legs apart and Ivan's growing bulge against him. In those fleeting moments when his hands were free, he threw them out to grasp for a weapon, but Ivan quickly recaptured them and held them as before.

"Ivan, calm down," Alfred said, desperate to reason with the demon. "You said you'd wait for me."

Ivan didn't seem to be listening, instead he kissed Alfred's breastbone, exposed between the v-neck of the pajama shirt. Those feathery kisses trailed up Alfred's throat until Ivan nibbled his ear. Alfred blushed from head to toe, head spinning from his own growing arousal. Ivan bit down on the lobe, not enough to draw blood, but enough for Alfred to gasp from the sharp pain.

"Mine," Ivan whispered in Alfred's ear. With his free hand, Ivan unbuttoned his coat while he tongued Alfred's ear. "All mine."

"Ivan," Alfred said, almost panted. "Stop."

"Nyet," Ivan growled possessively. His coat now hung open to show the loose, white button-down shirt beneath. Ivan leaned back to unwind his scarf and carefully drop it on the seat of the chair.

In that short respite, Alfred tried to roll off the desk and nearly got one wrist free before Ivan whammed Alfred's hands back down.

"Ivan, please stop!" Alfred begged, hating himself for resorting to pleading. Tears stung his eyes. "Don't do this!"

Something in Ivan's eyes shifted. The lust-filled look almost faded. "I can't," Ivan grunted. An eerie violet glow lit his eyes. Need possessed him. "I'm hungry."

 _Hungry?_ Alfred registered as Ivan, with his free hand, tore open the front of Alfred's pajama top, sending buttons flying in all directions.

If Ivan had been overwhelmed before, the sight of Alfred's exposed chest transformed him into an animal. Alfred cried out in shock when Ivan's teeth sunk into his collarbone, sucking and licking at the spot of flesh. It sent tingles coursing through Alfred who began to let out small moans.

He shouldn't enjoy this, but Ivan's touches were starting to send electric sparks all over his body. His heart pounded. His pulse quickened. He was losing himself in the carnal sensations.

When Ivan came again for his lips, Alfred averted his face, twisting away with all his might until Ivan grabbed his cheeks and yanked Alfred to face him. They stared intensely at another. The power in those eyes drew Alfred in and he felt an intrusion in his mind, a pressure in his head.

" _Kiss me_ ," Ivan commanded in a deep, powerful voice. It rang and reverberated in Alfred's head, growing in intensity.

"No," Alfred managed in a weak voice.

" _Kiss me_."

And Alfred's resistance broke. That alien force in his mind had won.

"Yes," Alfred said and lifted his head, opening his mouth. His skin burned all over, desire consuming him.

Ivan took him in a bruising kiss, their tongues meeting inside. Alfred couldn't think clearly anymore and, when Ivan released his hands, Alfred latched onto the demon and pulled him closer. All he wanted was more of Ivan's touch.

A symphony of pleasure was rising in him, sweeping away the last of his senses. He rubbed his growing erection against Ivan's stomach. Only vaguely did he notice Ivan remove and toss his gloves and coat away. Then those large hands returned and Ivan lifted Alfred up.

Alfred responded by wrapping his legs tightly around Ivan's waist and nuzzling his neck as he carried Alfred to the bed. Ivan shuddered in Alfred's grasp.

Dropped on the bed, Alfred scooted back and spread his legs apart. In a breathy voice, Alfred said, "Ivan."

The demon didn't bother with the buttons of his shirt, he simply ripped it open and threw it aside to reveal a beautifully sculpted torso of pale flesh like a statue. A light sheen of sweat glistened across his toned stomach.

Lost in lust, Alfred drank in the vision.

"Like what you see?" Ivan asked with an amused chuckle.

Out of habit Alfred started to protest until Ivan climbed on top of him and crushed their lips together. A charge of energy, an inferno, was building between them. All the hairs rose across Alfred's skin. Static snapped around them.

And Ivan's skin, cool before, turned ice cold.

The close contact of their chests sent jolts through Alfred. Every time they touched he felt that sizzling sensation, like he was about to burst into flames. He arched forward into Ivan's passionate kiss, and glided his palms over those smooth biceps and that muscular back, faintly aware of his fingers brushing over scarred flesh.

But Ivan's body continued to turn frigid. And the electric sensations, so tantalizing before, were becoming painful shocks. It started to feel as if Ivan was draining the warmth from his body.

His teeth chattering brought Alfred out of it. As Ivan attacked his throat with hungry kisses, Alfred lightly grabbed at Ivan's hair, suddenly frightened. Something was wrong.

 _No. Stop._ He wanted to say, staring at the underside of the bed's canopy.

Ivan's embrace was becoming torture. Pleasure was becoming fear. Fear that something was wrong. A pressure swelled in his head as something, an outside will, pushed to get in. It hurt badly and he gasped, not from Ivan sucking on his throat, but from a pounding in his skull.

 _Stop!_ His mind wailed.

Ivan shoved him down hard, rutting against him, as if to force Alfred through the mattress.

And then Alfred's tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth as he silently screamed. A voice - the voice of Ivan and yet not - boomed in his head, _Let me in, Sunflower._ _Let us be one._

Alfred didn't want that. He didn't want his mind pentrated.

"You taste of sunshine," Ivan panted as he left more marks on Alfred. "It's been torture... not to... eat you."

Spots appeared in Alfred's vision. His eyes widened as he noticed black curls of smoke beginning to rise off Ivan's skin.

This wasn't just sex, he realized. This was something worse. This was an invasion of Alfred's soul.

He screamed and shoved Ivan back with his hands and knees. The surprise attack threw Ivan off enough and Alfred scrambled for freedom. He almost reached the other side of the bed when Ivan's chilled hand latched onto his ankle, dragging him back.

"No! No! No!" Alfred yelled.

When he glanced over his shoulder, his heart nearly stopped at what he saw. Ivan's eyes had turned completely black and black smoke was flowing off him. His smile had become a mad grin.

Alfred flung out an arm to smack Ivan's face. It was deflected and he was pinned down by an iron grip on his nape. His crushed into the bedding as those icy fingers tangled in his hair.

He felt Ivan's cock, straining against the fabric of Ivan's pants, against his backside. In a guttural and inhuman voice, Ivan asked sweetly, "Where are you going, Sunflower? We've just begun."

Tears streamed down Alfred's face as he sobbed, shaking all over. "Please, please let me go!" He knew he would die if this continued.

"Such a radiant soul," Ivan said in an empty and hollow voice. It didn't sound like the Ivan that Alfred thought he knew. "It shines like no other. I must have you."

Alfred writhed and howled. His head felt like a spike was being rammed into it, each blow came closer to cracking _him_ open. His mind would explode. Black edging his vision, the last thing Alfred remembered was shrieking.

* * *

( **Note -** Uh-oh. What happened? Has Ivan lost it? Will Alfred lose it?

TBC... in Part II of **When We Become One** )


	21. When We Become One Part II

( **Warning :** Some adult content. Much milder than last chapter.)

* * *

 **When We Become One (Part II)**

* * *

He ran from the shadowy shapes that reached with razor-shap claws, and Alfred knew, as anyone in a nightmare does, that if he stopped, if he slowed, they would catch him and tear the flesh from his bones.

He dared not face those violet-eyed demons that called, _Alfreed ~ Aaaaaaaflfreed. Let us in, sweet boy._

Their inhuman voices whispered other horrors, ones that chilled him to his core, but he could not will his body to turn. Their sharp talons grazed his neck and -

\- he woke with a startled cry, thrashing. Or he tried to thrash, strong arms held him. A body, laying sideways, was spooned against his side; one thickly-muscled leg curled over his legs; and one arm was draped across his chest. Alfred was pinned down by who his drowsy mind - still caught between dreaming and reality - believed was Matthew at first.

The dear brother he shared a bed with back home and snuggled next to through those bitter cold winter nights. Little by little, Alfred's mind noticed details that did not fit with Mattie. For one, the chest pressing against his arm could not be Mattie's soft, slightly-pudgy one. And since when was Matthew's skin so cool? And why were they both only in their pants?

The crackle of a fire stirred something else in Alfred's head. Although the room was dark and it was night, he could see the red-glowing embers of fire in an arched fireplace on the other side of the room. This couldn't be home. They didn't have a fireplace in their room. The bed was too comfortable and the sheets were too silky. The pillows were flurry, not like sandbags.

Fingers brushed hair from Alfred's wide forehead and he went rigid, memories rushing back. Panic coursed into Alfred and he struggled to get free this iron grip. "No, no!" he yelled. "Let me go, bastard!"

He turned away when Ivan's cool lips kissed his cheek. "Shhh, you're fine now."

"No!" he cried. "I'm not! You're an animal!"

Ivan grabbed his jaw and harshly forced Alfred to face Ivan's now-glowing opal eyes. Something in Ivan's silhouette tells him he had crossed a line. He almost wanted to say sorry, but killed that absurd thought. A more disturbing one replaced it: how long has Ivan been laying next to him, waiting for him to wake?

His head throbbed; his body ached all over. He didn't want to think where his jacket and glasses had gone.

"Don't touch me," Alfred growled as those fingers combed through his hair in a soothing gesture. The last thing he needed was Ivan's forced comfort. "Not after what you did."

Although Alfred as, and still _is_ , powerless to stop Ivan, he can't help but speak defiantly. Even if he must take it, he won't do so without a word. He would protest to the end. Even when all hope is gone, a true hero _does_ not silently take it. They raise their fist to the heavens and shout to others to _defy_. To not give into despair no matter how bleak things are. No matter how their bodies are abused, their wills must never be broken.

Whatever the demon did to his body, Alfred was determined would not touch his soul.

" _Solnyshko_ ," Ivan said. Alfred frowned, not sure what Ivan had called him. It was spoken so tenderly, so un- _Ivanish_ , that Alfred found himself listening despite his anger. "Forgive me."

Alfred was speechless. In his view, Ivan could no be sincere even if he sounded sincere. However, he needed answers. Alfred needed to know. Heart laboring, sickened at the memory, he asked, "What did we... did you..."

He couldn't say the rest.

"Nothing," Ivan said, in a voice that _sounded_ ashamed. His fingers stilled. The glow died in his eyes. "I lost control for a time. I should not have let you near me."

The fingers trailed down Alfred's throat to trace circles on his chest.

A wet warmth, what Alfred realized was a tear, slid down Alfred's cheek. More followed. In a hurt voice, Alfred asked, "Why? Why'd you do it? My skull felt like it was being beaten open. As if you were killing me. I needed you to stop."

"I know, _Solnyshko_ ," Ivan said, using that name again. "I should explain. My battle with the British worm left me depleted. Then you came in, dressed so cute," Alfred scowled, "and your aura radiant. I was hungry. It became overwhelming."

There it was again that reference to hunger and taste. Alfred had been terrified it meant that they wanted to eat him, but none of the demons had bit him.

"What does your hunger have to do with this?"

"In my life no soul has ever shined as bright as yours. My kind _feeds_ off auras. You taste the best when you are excited."

 _When you are excited_ , the words echoed in Alfred's head, his eyes widening. The words of Toris, Arthur, and the goblin came back.

 _Ivan said to make you happy._

 _You look delicious, love._

 _Deliciousa._

Their meaning sunk into Alfred.

"You sick fucks have been feeding off me!" He yelled, clawing and kicking to get free. Ivan clung tighter, restricting his movements the more he fought. "Get off me!"

"You hurt me as well," Ivan said.

That phrase surprised Alfred enough to calm him. "Explain."

"Do you know what happens when high-level demons have sex?"

"I can't believe you," Alfred said, renewing his struggling. Ivan wanted to remind him!

" _Listen!_ " Ivan snapped, voice harsh and rough. Something unearthly in it froze Alfred. Goosebumps rose across his skin. "I did not want to tell you. I knew you would be angry. I wanted to prepare you properly first. When demons of my level have sex it is not _only_ the body that is penetrated. We merge with their mind, their essences, and very souls. At the peak of passion we join for an instant. What we call 'becoming one'."

"You've been grooming me," Alfred said, the truth dawning on me. "Hell no. I'd never... not with you."

"As much as I want to, we cannot merge. Not _yet_ ," Ivan said. "Until I lost my senses, I knew that."

Although Alfred hated to ask it this way, he didn't know how else to word it. "Why can't we?"

"For one, if you are not conditioned, the experience would likely kill you, or you turned into insane." Alfred gulped. "I made _mistakes_ in my early years as a demon lord. It has never happened since. Arthur, however, delights in mind-screwing his victims until their hair turns white."

"You... almost..." Alfred trialed off. He felt queasy.

"And almost injured myself as well. As delicious as you are, your soul is too pure. It's an addictive _poison_ to my kind. I cannot become one with you _yet_. You must submit to me. You must surrender yourself." His fingers went lower and Alfred's breath hitched. He grabbed at Ivan's hand, but it continued to descend. "I've never wanted anyone as much as you. Let me the darkness in."

Alfred's skin crawled as that hand went under the waistband of his pants. What worried Alfred was how much he _craved_ Ivan still. The demon was intoxicating.

"Don't."

"You are a magnificent soul," Ivan said, leaning until Alfred could feel that minty breath against his face. Those eyes held him. "but I'd be damaged if we went too far. As would Arthur."

"But he tried to..."

"A bluff. He sensed I was coming. He was taunting me. His hands cupped Alfred's manhood and stopped. Neither stroking nor squeezing. Alfred felt heat rising in his cheeks.

"You said we can't." His voice came out so weak.

"Not until you let in corruption. A sliver is all it takes. A seed of taint that will grow," Ivan said. Alfred turned his face away, feeling that cool breath puff against his cheek. "You will submit."

"Dream on."

"I am," Ivan said. His eyes lit up and he massaged the tip. Alfred bit back a pleasured sigh. His body responded, blood rushing to his groin. "And so are you. You are already addicted."

A moan escaped his lips; his whole body flushed. He whined when Ivan released him. Then Ivan grabbed his face and squeezed painfully on his jaw until his mouth opened.

Those eyes blazed and gripped Alfred. In a chilling voice, he said, "When you're under my power, I'll drink freely. For now, only a sip of your delicious poison."

Ivan's thumb brushed Alfred's swollen lip before the demon took him in a searing open-mouthed kiss that blew away his senses. A tugging in the back of Alfred's throat became a rush of heat out of his mouth. Something was flowing out of _him_ and into Ivan.

A tear trailed down Alfred's cheek as he closed his eyes. None of this hurt. It felt good to be fed off. His body tingled with want and he moaned. He went rock hard and Alfred grabbed at the sheets, toes curling. He wanted more.

It built and built until he climaxed hard and fainted.

* * *

( **Note -** Again? Alfred sure passes out a lot in this story. Life with a demon is never easy.

 **Next Time -** Alfred wakes to see Ivan sitting in front of the fire, drinking vodka. He joins him and Ivan tells of his dark past and how he became part of the _family_ in... "Family Matters"

** Katyusha (Ukraine), Natalia (Belarus), and Felix (Poland) are introduced for the first time.)


End file.
